Tumgik
#he literally wasn't shown going back for the body
qcomicsy · 6 months
Text
I think a thing that people get wrong about Jason's anger is that it's not explosive.
It's cold. Jason isn't the type of person who storms off at every little thing or goes throwing tantrums and setting things on fire blindfully.
He's the type of person who's very practical. He keeps to himself, always. You rarely see issues where Jason's anger is reactive at the moment where the trigger happens to him. If you see his character up close, most of the time when he's triggered his reaction is calm. Even cold.
He gets triggered -> He keeps to himself → He makes a plan → And then he reacts.
Jason's anger being something explosive and out of character and out of place is actually how other people (characters) see it, because they have no idea on how it's playing out on Jason's head.
And that's a thing you can see operating since he was a child.
Where the only exceptions about this effect is either when someone he believes needs his help is involved.
See Nightwing Annual (2021)
But In Batman #411 when Jason learns the fact that Two-Face was responsible for his father's death and Bruce was keeping that from him as a secret his first reaction isn't to blow up on him.
Was to seethe.
Tumblr media
Bruce goes up home after dealing with a Two-Face case (in my field we call that poetic irony) and asks Alfred where Jason is, Alfred's answer is that he's been sleeping all day (which is a conclusion that Alfred drew probably after going to check on Jason and seeing him in fact on his bed all day).
But when you see the next panel, even though he is on the bed, He's fully awake and both his expression and his body language shows that he's in fact angry.
This is the first time he appears again in the comics after learning that Two Face killed his dad.
Jason doesn't go towards Bruce immediately to demand an explanation or ask why he did this, or even to throw the truth on his face.
(Which could be debatable that that's something the Dick would usually do, but I'm not that literate on Dick's comics)
His reaction wasn't immediate.
His reaction was to go to his bed and stay quiet. Jason stayed calm and collected the whole trip until meeting Two Face again.
Tumblr media
But the moment Jason as Robin has the opportunity to get his hands on Two-Face he does this
Tumblr media Tumblr media
From Bruce, and maybe Alfred's perspective it could be interpreted as out of place or him storming off.
But it isn't. Jason was able to keep his cool (even though he shut off), until he was face a face to Two Face.
Does that mean he planned that to happen?
That's debatable, in any moment of this issue it is shown that Jason was actually planning to get to Two Face and do this. I my personal opinion, other and much more plausible explanation is: That he was in fact trying to keep to himself but couldn't hold back the moment that he saw his dad's murder.
You can see the same thing happening as Jason learns that Batman got another Robin in Red Hood: Lost Days.
Tumblr media
Talia asks "You all right?" and Jason's first answer is "Sure Why Wouldn't I Be Alright?"
When he's alone he finally has the moment to break down.
(Actually both Red Hood: The lost days and Batman: Under the Red Hood are great case studies on how that usually play out on Jason's head.)
Jason is way more in control of his emotions than people ever give him credit for. The thing is that Jason holds it back until he either blows off or is capable to throw it back in someone's face.
6K notes · View notes
changetyre · 7 months
Text
THIS IS YOUR FAULT! || LN4 Ⓢ Ⓦ *Drabble*
Tumblr media
SUMMARY: You thought the hardest part of your unplanned pregnancy would be the lack of sleep maybe the nausea but you would've never thought the ridiculous increase in your libido would be what was proving the most challenging. (Lando Norris x Pregnant!Reader)
WARNINGS: ***Smut 18+***
A/N: This drabble is quite short but I am willing to write other parts of this couple if requested ;)
_______________________________
"This is all your stupid stupid fault." You whined as you spoke to your boyfriend on the phone after ranting to him for 10 minutes straight.
You heard him giggle on the other side which only made you angrier. "I'm almost home darling."
He reminded you of the fact he had literally only gone to the store down the street because you were craving some sour candies after Lando had eaten you out for the second time today and it was only 12pm.
"You're a goddamn professional driver for fucks sake it should only take you half a second to speed down the street in your stupid orange car and get back." You continued whining.
You felt like your body was literally screaming for your boyfriend to put his hands on you and relieve you from this need to feel pleasure...again.
"Baby I didn't take the car just to go to the store that is 5 minutes away walking." He laughed again.
"I hate you." you almost cried.
This is what the first months of pregnancy were looking for you, You thought that after being knocked up by your boyfriend by accident during your 2-year anniversary would be enough sex for a while but your body thought otherwise.
It was honestly ridiculous the frequency with which you needed to relieve yourself but you were incredibly thankful for the fact that you got pregnant on the penultimate race of the season and this horny symptom had only shown up after the season ended so you had your boyfriend home most of the time and for a few months.
At first, Lando was concerned with how needy you were even thinking something was wrong but after a visit to your OBGYN where she found his concern funny, she reassured you both that this would be normal and the antidote was pretty self-explanatory.
After this Lando quite enjoyed being so needed and being able to inject you with the medicine needed so often and initially for you it was fun too until it just started getting frustrating.
Yes, Lando had the exact skill set required to pleasure you exactly the way you needed repeatedly and bring you satisfaction rather quickly but the frustrating part was the fact that the satisfaction only lasted an hour or 2 sometimes even less, and sometimes Lando wasn't home to help which had you crying at times because relieving yourself was never nearly enough.
Lando had become such an expert at landing a helping hand that sometimes he would even be in meetings while secretly fingering you who would lay in front of him with your legs spread wide open. Sometimes he would even be eating you out while on a phone call shushing you when he would unmute his phone to keep talking.
"I love you too darling." You would've started crying if Lando hadn't come right through the door after this.
"FINALLY!" You called dramatically. "Eat!" You yelled pointing at your bare pussy where you had laid on the couch.
"With pleasure." Lando laughed setting the bags down.
"WAIT!" You yelled before he could walk forward. "I want my sour gummies." You extended your hand.
Lando could only laugh again at your antics reaching for them in the grocery bag and tossing them to you before finally kneeling down in front of the couch.
"Anything else M'lady." he joked.
"No, now eat." You pointed again in between your legs as you both began eating, you your gummies and Lando you.
2K notes · View notes
avisisisis · 9 months
Text
Seeing people saying that Satoru doesn't actually care about Suguru and that the only reason Kenjaku caught him was bc he was surprised to see a person he killed alive is fucking wild, man
Like. Gojo's entire life revolves around Geto. The entire series happens because he loved Suguru too much to kill him, even though he knew he would have to do it eventually. The world literally went to shit because he wasn't over him
Geto Suguru's life would be completely unimportant to the story without Gojo Satoru, and Gojo Satoru's would be completely unimportant without Geto Suguru. They complement each other. They need each other
Two male betta fishes can't coexist. They will fight and one will die. They can't see each other — even if they're in different tanks, they won't be able to live. They'd eventually tire each other out, resulting in death. The only way for Satoru and Suguru's lives to be able to continue without the other would've been for them to never have met at all. And they can't be together. Not now, not ever again. Not while they're still alive. Not after everything that's happened
The entire story revolves around their relationship. Yuuji is a boy who ate a curse('s finger[s]), and Megumi is the prodigy who befriends him. Satoru is a prodigy, the strongest, and Suguru, the boy whose technique is eating curses, befriends him. The Jujutsu Kaisen story is all about parallels and they all connect to fucking Satosugu. It's all about them
The only reason Kenjaku's plan worked is because the body he used didn't belong to some random person Gojo killed, it worked because the body he used was Geto Suguru's, Gojo's one and only, his best friend. He must be thinking “Thank god they're gay” right now lmao
Gojo fucking hesitated. He hesitated multiple times when it came to Geto. He was supposed to kill him, yet he let him go. He has the Six Eyes, he could've easily tracked him down. He probably could tell if he was nearby (he can recognize Suguru from his scent) and just didn't go looking for him. And he could've so very easily escaped the trap that was set up for him, he was going to run away from it because we see him about to take that step but then Suguru's body shows up and says “Yo, Satoru!” with Suguru's voice and Satoru freezes and hesitates
They weren't able to let go of each other even after years of being separated (like a decade). When they meet, Suguru still greets Satoru warmly
Suguru is pretty much Satoru's moral code. He was the only person Satoru took at least mildly seriously pre-Toji (and we know Satoru just didn't do serious back then). He actually took his words to heart. He was kind, of course (especially from Suguru's PoV, since he's the person that knows him most), and not a bad person, but he wasn't nice. Suguru was always the ‘nice(r) one’, the one who actually had a moral code, while Satoru was more of an asshole to literally everyone and everything (some more, some less), thinking he and Suguru were above everyone else
When Suguru finally snaps (which, honestly. Fair) and goes genocidal (not so fair), Satoru slowly starts to be somewhat nicer and starts applying Suguru's old moral code to his own being — their roles weren't exactly reversed, but now they're not together anymore, so they might as well be. And Suguru was shown for having faith in the school and its system while it was Satoru the one who absolutely abhorred the higher-ups and all kinds of authority, but then it ended up with Suguru being the one to leave and become a cult leader with the blood of hundreds on his hands while Satoru was the one that stayed behind in the same place of the people he despises so much
(Imagine someone saying something like “Sometimes I doubt you even have a moral code” and Gojo answers with “Oh, my best friend my one and only is pretty much my moral code. He went homicidal a while back but it's okay haha” “...Actually, that explains a few things”)
Gojo doesn't have a god complex, but I wouldn't blame him if he did. I mean, he might as well be the closest thing to god human beings have ever seen. He used to put himself above everyone else, when he was a teenager. He thought that, the higher he was, the more he could do. And no one was better than him. But not Suguru. Back then, it wasn't “I'm the strongest” it was “We're the strongest and “We're the best” and “We're the ones that will beat you” and “We're the duo” and it was all about “us, us, us, us, us” instead of “me, me, me, me” like people thought it was — they were a pair. They still are
We know people thought and still think of Gojo as a weapon. As something that must be controlled, because on the moment he decides he doesn't want to be around them anymore, he could just straight up kill then without any effort (but getting rid of people in positions of power only gets other people in positions of power and it'll be a neverending story, and Gojo knows this so he's trying to do his best to fix it all through the younger generation, by letting them live). And we also know that Suguru is one of the very few people who did not believe that at all
Like their personalities and characters and stories and literally everything, their names complement each other. Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru are such similar names, I get them mixed up all the time (the amount of times I've called them “Gojo Suguru” and “Geto Satoru” is embarassing. Also, “Saturu”. “Goto”. “Gejo”. Ugh). Both of their last names start with a G, end with an O and have 4 letters. Both of their given names start with an S, end with an U and have 6 letters. They complement each other. They need each other
The only times we've seen Gojo with an expression of actual pure, raw emotion is when it's about Geto. When he finds out about what Geto did, when he realizes how thin and wrong Geto looks, when he sees him again for what we assume to be the first time in years, when he dies, when a thing wearing his corpse and using his voice greets him (“Yo, Satoru!” oh my god)
Suguru was able to fight back when in Kenjaku's control after Satoru said his name. Kenjaku himself says that had never happened before
And you don't even have to see them as romantic. You don't have to ship them if you don't want to. But you can't deny that they care about each other more than they will ever care about anyone else
2K notes · View notes
strwberri-milk · 1 month
Note
Do you think you could do genshin charas (I don't mind who! Your pick 🫶) with a reader who has a reaaaaally clingy cat
The kitty hates everyone but the reader and follows them everywhere. When the reader leaves and the cat can't follow it meows SO loud for hours until the reader comes back. Kitty will jump up on the readers shoulder and sometimes sit on their head (small kitty) and if anyone comes close to reader the kitty will start hissing and swatting at them until they back away. Basically like a guard dog but a guard kitten
hmm im giving you diluc and kaveh!! i'm also making it so that kitty warms up to him *eventually* because itd be so sad if it hated him forever :( ALSO my friends kitten literally hates me she refused to take a treat from my hand for like half an hour [sob] she would sniff it but wouldnt eat it :((( oh ya also surprise rafayel bc hes so funny LMAO
Tumblr media
I can see Diluc taking to cats. They're more self sufficient than dogs and considering his busy work schedule he'd think it'd be a little difficult to keep a dog busy without also worrying for it's safety. When you tell him you have a cat he doesn't mind it at all but he's a little concerned when your cat starts hissing and spitting at him.
He looks at you, unsure of what to do and you explain that the cat is simply just protective of you. He doesn't want to somehow offend your cat by encroaching on your shared bubble so he looks to you to see what he can and can't do.
Now whenever your cat and Diluc hang out it's like a game of chicken. Diluc's trying to figure out what he's allowed to do (by permission of your cat) and you're trying to make sure your cat doesn't scratch Diluc/hurt itself trying to jump onto him to protect you.
Diluc also tries other ways of acclimating your cat to him. He leaves a jacket in the room you and your kitty are in together so it can explore his scent freely, waits to see if it'll come to him rather than you bringing it to him, etc. When it slowly finally warms up to him he can barely hide his relief, hating the thought of you having to choose between him or your pet.
He's very patient and your kitty seems to appreciate it, hissing at him less until finally, one day you come home and find Diluc sitting incredibly still watching your kitten sleep soundly on his lap. He's barely breathing, turning to you when he sees you come in with awe in his eyes not unlike a child's. It definitely helped that his body runs warm and kitty just needed a place to nap.
Tumblr media
Kaveh jumps the first time your cat hisses at him. He wasn't expecting that to happen since most animals warm up to him pretty quickly. Similar to Diluc, he knows not to force a relationship between himself and your kitten so he also takes his time to acclimate your cat to him.
Unlike Diluc I think your cat would warm up to him faster. Kaveh has absolutely great vibes and animals tend to follow him around because he also has a habit of feeding them if he can. This natural kindness is shown in the way he respects your cat's boundaries and the way he watches you care for the animal.
Your cat slowly explores Kaveh only if you're close to him. He has a bit more success if he's wearing something or has something you've recently worn draped over him but he's careful if your kitty starts circling around his feet. Even if it lightly nips or hisses at him he tries not to react too strongly, knowing that it's just trying to protect you and getting mad at it is just going to halt progress.
Eventually your cat starts to slowly enjoy sitting with Kaveh and watching him sketch. It doesn't interrupt his drawings but you notice it's eyes watching his pencil flit about. When it gets more comfortable it might tentatively bat at it, Kaveh carefully picking it up and depositing it into your lap to avoid any actual damage being done to his work.
Tumblr media
Rafayel is incredibly dramatic and because you know he's afraid of cats you've decided to keep your cat away from him. That was mostly successful until one day he came in as you were getting dressed in your room. You knew he'd be coming over and you forgot that he could just let himself in and quickly tried to make yourself decent the second you heard his screaming.
You're ready to attack whatever it is that made him lose his composure, thinking you're ready to go face to face with a Wanderer when you find him crouched on top a kitchen counter glaring daggers at you. He knew you had a cat and was under the impression that since you knew he was coming today you would have put it away.
In a weird way he tells you he's glad that your cat isn't "trying to trick him" by being cute and cuddly. He's very adamant about not touching your cat and keeping his distance away from the "creature". You'd have to convince him to touch your cat but that only happens once your cat actually calms down in his presence. It sees how you act around him and over time realises that you care a lot about him.
It takes some more time but your cat and boyfriend have some sort of peace treaty with each other that's never actually communicated. They relatively leave each other alone and tolerate each other's presence only for you.
222 notes · View notes
sanjisblackasswife · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Working on all my November /October drafts before tumblr deletes em🤦🏽‍♀️ enjoy baby💓 i also added luffy because edging him would be so fun :)
Tumblr media
Edging Monster Trio + Kidd (NSFW)
Black Fem Reader in Mind
Cw: …sex bro its sex
Tumblr media
Zoro
Tumblr media
2nd biggest brat of the four.
Zoro is a naturally easily flustered boy. Just a single compliment from you and he’s already red in the face.
But poor baby he tries so hard to mask it. It’s almost like he turns into a literal brat when you edge him on.
“Why—why do you want to hear me beg, are you some kinda sadist?”
“Lil bit.”
“WHAT—“
Edging Zoro is a treat because he would rather bite his lip until he bleeds before blessing your ears with his whimpers and begging
But you knew Zoro would be difficult so you made a bet. And in this bet he loss and that’s how he got here:
Strapped on your chair, naked, with you riding his thigh with a vibrator in your hand.
“What the—hell is your problem!” 
You could hear the strain in his voice. Zoro’s chest and face are so red, but not as red as his cock right now. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, he was looking at the wall and everything else, but you, and it made you upset, he couldn’t seem to want to look at you, being a little brat he was you grabbed his wet cheeks, mushing it together a little, forcing him to look at you.
“Hey…”You nod at him a little, he begins to huff and breathe through his nose, chest rising and lowering quickly almost as if he were struggling to catch his breathe, you smile, “focus on me…”
Nothing could compare to the shock shown in Zoro's eyes, it brought a chill down his spine to see you turn your demeanor in such a 180, and yet...he couldn't be more turned on.
"Ple-"
Your eyebrows rise, it's been 15 minutes of consistent moving the vibrator on his cock and pulling it away, yes Zoro can have amazing self discipline, but you knew just how to push the envelope.
"Say it.."
"Fuck.." Zoro puffed out, head tried hanging low, but you picked it back up with one hand , while pressing the toy back on his leaking tip, precum now falling over the head of the vibrator. "...please..please let me fucking cum."
You almost felt bad for being so mean, you knew from his blushed chest and face, the way his thigh twitched under you cunt, and how a moan slipped through his teeth he was at his limit, but if he wasn't such a stubborn little asshole maybe he would have came sooner.
Luckily, you're not too mean and you let him do just that making a sticky mess on not only his abs but your hand as well.
Kid
Tumblr media
Biggest brat.
Most annoying brat
First off good luck trynna convince him and good luck trynna get him to beg
"Fuck you and that idea."
Edging Kid just...won't happen... not unless you are on top...possibly.
"Keep--fucking going dammit!"
"No."
You have spent 30 minutes trying to break this asshole and he finally started to whine just a little when you started to grind yourself on his cock just how he likes before cumming and stopped. Now, it's time to edge him.
"I'll never fucking beg for you."
"Then I guess you'll never fucking cum now will you.."
Kid is usually the type to call your bluff, he has done it plenty times in the past, but tonight you were tired. You were tired of his bullshit and trying to tell you what to do and that glint in your eye showed him you weren't playing around with him anymore.
Pressing your body against his your lips latched to his weak spot as you lazily humped his dick, damn your ass felt good slapping against his thigh he couldn't keep himself from biting his wet lips.
"Sssssshittt!" Kid got choked up, his lips began to part, eye furrowed focusing on cumming since he was so so close as you nibbled and licked on his neck, but alas, you knew his body like the back of your head so you move away, causing him to curse again.
"Say. Please."
"Fuck. You."
His voice was quivering when he said thta, you sigh, sure you were close to an orgasm as well, but you set your pleasure aside to show him you meant what you said.
And that's exactly why after 2 more times of stopping him from realsing inside you he broke, "Ple...please...make me cum..."
Sanji
Tumblr media
Swears he hates it but he just cant get enough.
"Aah! W-wait wait wait wait wait! Sssssshhiit Y/N babe!-"
Fuck his moans were some of the sluttiest things you could hear from a man like him, he whines so much you almost wanted to give in and slide yourself on top of him, his voice alone made you so wet all by itself you kept rubbing your thighs, clenching over nothing when you heard him cry out beside you
"You're not ganna give up so easily are you? My pretty boy isn't THAT weak to temptation is he?..you already failed earlier, here's your second chance to show me you can handle this.."
His fingers were nearly ripping through your sheets, looking down to see you slowly push his black shirt higher over his chest, his underwear to his ankles and your pretty small hands around his throbbing cock, it was a sight to see as he laid uncomfortably still watching you pump so vigorously, just to stop all together.
Your breast now stained from prior, he came way too fast and way too easily when you rubbed his slit with your thumb.
"Y/N...baby...I--ah!"
Yes, you want to hear him beg, but it was more fun hearing him whimper, your hand was gliding against his wet shaft, using his cum as lube as you suckled his nipple, it was all too much for Sanji to take and feeling you stop him from cumming again, he started to get choked up, tears falling from his eyes
"Please!" He coughed, "pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease, let me cum for you please!"
Ugh. You really had a soft spot for this pervert. His cheeks were so wet and pink you kiss his lips passionately as if your were apologizing for being so mean.
Not parting your lips from him you flew your leg over him, pulling away slowly to let him watch you sink down on his cock, sharing such a slutty moan together, "Yes! Yes thank you, baby thank you I love youiloveyou i love--aahhh mmmmfuck!"
You let him thrust himself up into you, holding on to his shoulders as his tear stained face was mushed against your soon to be sucked on breast, still moaning into your skin about how good you feel and how much he loves you.
Luffy
Tumblr media
Has no patience for it HOWEVER he enjoys it???
As you pop off from sucking his cock his body jerks up, a broken moan turns into laughter from him and it oddly enough turns you on.
"C-common! ahaha! Keep suckinggggg!"
"Say please first!" You both share a giggle, this was supposed to be where he begs and cries for more, but instead he's making it fun for the both of you.
"M' not saying please.." He then crossed his arms and pouted, but his little childish attitude was cut short when you spit on his pretty brown tip and swirled your hand on it, it was almost as if his eyes started to twinkle as his cheeks blushed stubly, "Y/Nnnnnnnnnn...ah.."
Luffy's moans got very scratchy and whiney when it came him him close to cumming, he began to raise his hips and grind them against your hand to push you to--
"Put your mouth back on itttttttt commonnnnn! I put my mouth on you!"
"Lufffyyyyy.." Your voice sounded playful as you moved his hips back down, "Say please first."
"Uh uh." He shook his head, "Suck it first."
"Then no."
You knew how to get him to do what you want, granted you didn't want to take such drastic measures but you were sick of him being a little impatient baby so with your opposite hand you pull his chin in for a kiss, it was soft and sweet, until Luffy grabbed your head to lower it back on his dick, "Stop itt!!!"
"Suck it--ah! Fuck!"
You cupped his balls, massaging them, immediately noticing his eye shut tightly gripping the covers beside him on your bed, he broke out into a soft moan, he hated when you touched his so so so sensitive--
"Stop touching down there...PLEASE JUST SUCK--op." Luffy quickly covered his mouth realizing what he said and it made you smile a little. "No! No! I didn't say please!"
"yes you did.."
"NU UH I--OH!"
You just shut your pretty flustered captain up by moving your head back down to take all of his cock back in your mouth.
"M-maybe I did saaaay it." Luffy voice kept stuttering watching you wink at him bopping your head up and down.
Dammit he was so cute like this.
2K notes · View notes
mhsdatgo · 2 months
Text
Hotd writers choosing to adapt Mushroom's records out of everything they had in hand is the worst decision they could've ever come up with btw.
It's been stated time and time again that while F&B is purely built on records and gossip and morphed retelling of events out of bias and propaganda, Mushroom is the LEAST reliable of all the sources. He's a fool at Rhaenyra's court, his job is make people gasp and laugh, not retell historical events.
We're talking about the same guy who said that he had a penis large enough to match the size of his head, mind you. Also, he's obsessed with little girls giving BJs to Targaryen men somewhere in Flea Bottom. It's happened twice according to him.
The writers' reasoning for this choice is basically that F&B was written by Maesters and Septons, who were all greedy men, apart from being Green supporters. So anything they say is false, anything they say is written with sexist intent. Writer's intention was to do the exact opposite.
Then tell me, for the love of God, tell me, why is every woman apart from Rhaenyra, who is clearly whitewashed and I can go into heavy detail about that, basically shunned?
The Maesters claim Alicent left Viserys' body to rot and swell for days preparing and LEADING Rhaenyra's usurpation. She's the leader of the Greens, she and she alone. Not Otto. The Green Council answers only to her orders, they are loyal to HER.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I've seen people argue that since Alicent is what Maesters view as an "ideal" woman, then they would try anything to paint her in the best light possible. While I agree that this may be true, I don't think this is the case. In history books, even in real life, women are rarely painted as leaders or important figures.
For Queen Alicent to be written as THE face of the Greens, you know this mama wasn't playing around.
Now, how is this:
Tumblr media
In ANY WAY, even comparable to THIS?:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
At the end of ep.8 and quite literally the entirety of ep.9, Alicent is shown as a lost woman who doesn't even seem to know what she's doing, pushed by Viserys' last words about prophecy rather than SHEER DESIRE to get her hands dirty for her children's safety (which by the way will always be superior imo). The Green Council conspires behind her back, and on top of it all, she's yelled at by one of her own men and is made to take it like a beaten dog.
Moreover, we had Helaena's ROAST (yes it was a roast, my Queen inherited cunty lines from her cunty mother) against Aegon and her coronation, the latter being addressed as something quite wholesome, if you ask me. Alicent places her own crown upon her daughter's head and calls her "my Queen" after kissing her cheeks and kneeling. Afterwards, her and Alicent are literally written to be the only ones who could get through Aegon II's thick skull when he wanted to start the war right then and there as a result of Rhaenyra crowning herself on Dragonstone.
You hear me??? Aegon sat down and fucking listened to the two women in his life. Not the Council, them. These two were dogwalking him, the KING, on the daily, how is that sexist writing on the Maesters' part????
Yet these things are nowhere to be seen in Ryan Condal and Sara Hess' "progressive" show. We got beaten dog Alicent and Helaena being nothing but a walking spoiler machine other than yet another instrument to paint Aegon as the big bad wolf and usurper. Not a single scene of them counseling Aegon.
Baela and Rhaena have nearly no lines or scenes that don't show them in the presence of the Strongs. They are seemingly okay with anything Rhae throws their way because it's Rhae. The one and only scene about Baela openly speaking to her grandma about her wish to fight for Rhaenyra was deleted.
Meanwhile, Rhaenyra is stripped of her rage and thirst for vengeance, and instead made to negotiate for peace while in the books she was the one pushing to go to war first.
Can you tell me, again, how the fanfiction that is Hotd supposed to prove that they want to be "progressive" in contrast to the Maesters' "sexist" work, when literally all they do is whitewash Rhaenyra and sideline any woman who isn't her?
148 notes · View notes
whorefortheevans · 11 months
Text
Not His Type - Jimmy Darling x Fem!Reader (18+)
I genuinely can't tell if this is good or not lmfao, I haven't written smut in literal yearsss and I've never written for ahs please help me.
CW: fingering, oral (fem receiving), public sex, slight praise at the end word count: 1316
"I'm telling you, Ethel, I'm definitely not his type," you explained, for what felt like the millionth time, to Jimmy's sweet mother. She and you have become increasingly close over the time that you've been working at the freakshow. Two years ago, you came looking for a job, just something small to make at least a little money. Elsa turned you down at first, because you were nothing short of normal, but after offering (begging) to help Ethel with the cooking, she finally gave in.
"How do you know what his type is? You've never asked 'im," she responded, continuing to chop the vegetables you both were preparing for the night's dinner. You scoffed, rolling your eyes and sliding the diced onion into a large pot.
"He likes Maggie. And what's not to like? She's blonde, thin, pretty face..."
Ethel glanced up with a small smirk creeping onto her lips. "Listen, Y/n, I've known Jimmy my whole life and I'm telling you, he's liked you for a while now."
Jimmy was the first guy you had shown any interest in. Most of them are crude and only want one thing, but he was the first man to ask for your name, take your hand and gently kiss your knuckles as an introduction. Well, needless to say he's had you since day one.
"Nope," you denied. "I am not his type, not even close."
"Not who's type?" Jimmy asked, striding into the tent. He had a playful smile on his face, and you turned away from him immediately, praying that the blush on your face wasn't as apparent as it felt.
"Nothing, don't worry about it," you said quietly. "Just boring girl talk."
Ethel put her knife down on the table and turned to you. "Oh, you know what? I forgot to grab a carrot, I'll go find one, don't wait up!" she said, half yelling as she quickly walked out of the tent, leaving you and Jimmy alone.
You suppressed a grin and rolled your eyes, standing in front of the table and starting to cube a potato. You saw Jimmy move towards you out of the corner of your eye and felt your heart flutter. It's stupid for him to have this hold over you.
"Hi, Y/n," Jimmy said in a sing-song voice.
You smiled and looked up at him. "Hi, Jimmy."
"Who's the lucky guy?" he asked.
"What lucky guy? The one who doesn't like me back?" He grinned and shortly nodded. "It doesn't matter. I have no chance." you said, looking back at the medley on the table.
Jimmy came closer to you, now standing just mere inches away, his body heat making you impossibly warmer. "Put the knife down, Y/n."
You placed the knife onto the cutting board and pushed it away from the table's edge. You turned to Jimmy, who took your wrists in his hands and smiled at you. "Who's the lucky guy?"
He leaned his head towards yours, nudging your cheek with his nose. You gasped, trying to control your breath and slow your heartbeat, but you knew it was no use. "Um, it's you, Jimmy," you said, awkward and quiet. You felt him smile against your skin.
"And who says you're not my type?" he said, clearly amused, but your sense of embarrassment dwindled quite quickly. You didn't answer him. Your words were caught in your throat and his proximity was making you very nervous.
He didn't press the issue further, and instead kissed your cheek, then the corner of your mouth, and after a small pause to look into your eyes, he smiled again and placed his lips on yours.
His hands grasped your waist, and you placed yours on his shoulders for stability. He gently bit your bottom lip, eliciting a moan from you, and he continued to kiss his way down your jaw to your neck, biting and licking until he found the spot that made you moan yet again.
He sucked on the skin just below your ear, and you threw your head back to give him space. He walked you back a few steps, until your lower back hit the table behind you. Jimmy pulled away and lifted you up, sitting you down on the cleared space of the table. Now standing between your legs, he reached his hands under your shirt and pulled it off.
His left hand massaged your breast, hardening your nipple and sending chills down your spine. His right hand moved further down, rubbing soft circles over your clothed clit. You moaned and pulled your head away from him.
"Is this okay?" he asked you.
"Your mom will be back soon," you said, although you didn't want him to stop.
"We'd better make this quick then, lift your hips." he said, as he quickly pulled down your pants and underwear in one go.
"Jimmy! The food is right here!" you exclaimed, your heart pounding steadily.
He laughed and kissed down your body, positioning himself on his knees right in front of your dripping pussy. "The heat will cook off anything bad, don't worry." He ran his fingers through your wetness and stuck them in his mouth. "You taste delicious," he said, kissing your thighs, inching closer to where you most want him.
"Jimmy, please," you whimpered, wriggling your hips to try and find some sort of friction.
"Please, what?" he teased, looking up at you.
You groaned in embarrassment, "Please touch me, lick me...anything."
He smiled up at you and lightly kissed your clit, sticking his tongue out and flattening it against you. You gripped the edge of the table and let your head fall back in pleasure.
He kitten licked your clit before briefly pausing, and running his tongue from the base of your pussy back up to your clit, sucking it and kissing it in a way you've never felt before.
You let out a series of moans, trying to keep them quiet in case anyone was near enough to hear. You moved your hand into his hair and pulled on it, causing him to moan and send vibrations through your core. You leaned back on your left hand, hoping it would be enough to support you through this.
Jimmy took his right hand from where it rested on your thigh and plunged his middle two fingers into your hole, pushing them as far in as possible before withdrawing them. He began to pump them, slowly at first, and as your moans got louder his hand went faster.
You could feel your arousal dripping out of you, running down to your asshole and collecting on Jimmy's chin. It wasn't long before you were a wriggling mess. You could feel your pelvic muscles tightening and your walls started to clench around his fingers. "Jimmy, I-I'm gonna...cum," you moaned out.
Jimmy took his mouth away from you and pumped faster, if that was even possible. He took his left hand and rubbed hard, fast circles on your clit and looked up at you, your mouth agape and eyes squeezed shut. "Cum for me, Y/n. Cum on my fingers like a good girl,"
That was all you needed before he sent you over the edge. You bit your knuckles, trying to keep quiet but your moans still sounded loud in your ears. You clenched tightly around Jimmy and squeezed your legs together as the pressure inside you was released.
Jimmy took his fingers out but rubbed your clit through your orgasm before helping you put your pants back on. He stood up, wiped his mouth on his arm and smiled at you. "Who says you're not my type?" he grinned, backing away from you as Ethel came back in, holding up two carrots.
"Found 'em," she said, before setting them down on the opposite side of the table and sending you a playful smirk.
428 notes · View notes
ellisgirl · 6 months
Text
Ellis Twilight — I Want to Know Every Inch of You Collection Event
Seperate Bodies 🔞 tw: suggestive, NSFW
Tumblr media
I do not own any contents of Ikemen Villains. This story being uploaded in this blog belongs solely to CYBIRD. Please support them by downloading their games and buying their stories. Both English and Japanese are not my mother tongue languages, please keep in mind that there will be mistakes and added words for my own preferences. I translate for my personal entertainment and for my own practice only.
Victor asked me to take the Crown's physical measurements for the purpose of health management and research—
I visited Ellis, who was easy to ask first, and it turned out to be the right decision.
Thanks to his great cooperation, the measurements proceeded very quickly.
Kate: “Thank you for your cooperation, Ellis. This concludes the measurement of your upper body."
Ellis: "That's good. By the way, Miss Kate, there's something I was curious about......"
Ellis: "Can you lend me a hand?"
Kate: "......? Yes, sure."
I held out my hand, wondering what he was going to do, and Ellis's hand came to rest on mine—
My hand was guided and touched his chest, which was bare…..for measurement.
I feel his moist skin all over my palm.
Ellis: ".….If you're interested in my body, you can touch it."
Kate: "Eh!? Uh, how.….”
Ellis: “Because I felt like I could feel your eyes piercing through me while you were measuring for my chest. ……Was it my misunderstanding?"
Kate: "You misunderstood..., there was nothing.”
Ellis looks slender when he's dressed, but when he takes his clothes off, he has an unexpectedly masculine body.
Although the measurements are taken seriously, I couldn't help but admire his thick chest and his well-defined abdominal muscles.
(I thought I was keeping a level head, but he knew.... How embarrassing……)
Ellis: “As much as you like, Miss Kate, go ahead.”
Kate: "E-Even if you ask me to go ahead….."
Even if I'm interested in touching another person's body, especially a man's body, my reservation and embarrassment will prevail.
(I know you're saying this for me, Ellis, but....I'll say no.)
I tried to take his hand away, saying It was fine if I didn’t touch him.
However, Ellis is holding my hand tighter than I imagined, and I can't get away from him even a little.
Ellis: "You don't have to hold back on me, so feel free to check with your hands."
You noticed I tried to take my hand away, your hands are literally so strong.
(If you've told me this much, it's not right to say no.….isn't it?)
(If I reject him excessively, then it seems like I'm being weirdly conscious of Ellis.....)
Deciding to accept the kindness, I slid my hand over his skin.
Kate: "....Muscles are softer than I thought. I thought it was harder."
Ellis: “When you're relaxed, yes. When you're exerting yourself, though, it gets harder......"
Kate: "Wow, that's amazing...!”
(Still, I think people are reluctant to have their skin touched...)
(Is Ellis used to being touched by other people…..?)
Even though the fun seems to rise, my heart is in turmoil at the defencelessness of Ellis, who let me touch him without any odd hesitation.
Ellis: "What's wrong?"
Tumblr media
Kate: “Well......I was wondering if you do this to anyone who asks you to.”
Regret comes immediately after speaking out.
I knew Ellis was kind to everyone, but I speak as if I’m blaming him.
Ellis: “…..Don't worry, I didn't do anything that you would be worried about.”
The reply was ambiguous, as if it were an answer, but it wasn't.
I also notice a strange pause before the reply.
(What are the things that worry me? Have you ever let some else touches you, if only a little?…..)
Ellis's trivial words and actions have stuck with me, and I don't feel refreshed, as if a lees has settled in my mind.
(There's no reason to feel like this, but why am I.….)
Ellis: “If it still bothers you... Do you want to try touching somewhere else?”
Ellis: "....I really haven't shown this place to anyone, I haven't let anyone touch it."
Ellis: "Only for Miss Kate, special"
Kate: “Eh….”
Ellis pulled my hand again.
The hand that was touching his chest went down through his stomach.....and stop at his waist.
Kate: “….Ellis?”
Ellis: “No one touches it from here down, so go ahead.”
What Ellis is showing is below the bottoms... his lower body.
Kate: "Ah, uh..... This is not usually a place to let people touch, is it?"
Ellis: “What would you like to do, Miss Kate?”
Ellis: "Rather than normal or common sense, I want to do what you want to do."
Ellis: "I've been thinking about how to make you happy."
Even if that feeling of Ellis is one that is poured out without division to all.
I was the only one in his eyes right now.
Kate: "I, am......"
(......If there is a place on Ellis's body where only I am allowed, I want to touch it.)
The sweet sound of "special" made me forget to reply and my throat started to throb.
Ellis: ".....You can do whatever you want."
I finally gave a small nod as my gentle forgiveness.
Ellis: “Shall we proceed slowly? Let's start with........to the first joint of your finger."
Is Ellis pulling my hand, or am I proceeding with my own will? I don't know anymore.
My fingertips slip under his bottoms without any sense of reality, as if I were in a dream.
Ellis: "Second joint........”
Kate: “Ah.”
My advanced fingertips feel the rough texture of the skin. It's hot and humid inside.
Ellis: “Hmm. …..fufu, I’ve gone all the way in to the base of your fingers, haven't I?"
Ellis smiled like a child whose prank had succeeded.
Contrary to that innocence, I felt like I was doing something I shouldn’t...., I was scared.
Kate: "Uh, I guess..."
I came to my senses and pulled out my fingertips, grazing the deep part of him.
Ellis: “Nn…gh”
(……!)
Ellis: “Sorry..... I was so ticklish, I made a weird noise."
Kate: “N-no, it’s not….”
Ellis's sweet voice, which leaked a little, remains in my ears.
(The fact that I'm the only one who can touch Ellis here...)
(And that lovely voice I just heard, is that just for me?)
The thought of it is irresistibly lovely and makes me want to touch and listen to it again.
(But, as expected, no more...)
Ellis: "....More touches if you like, Miss Kate."
Taking my hesitant hand again, Ellis let me touch it through the bottoms.
Kate: “……Uh”
I gasped as I felt something passionately insisting on the area I touched.
Ellis: "This is what happened, so...I would like you to lend me a hand."
Kate: "B-but...I already had taken your body measurements.….”
I finally remember my job and give my opinion with a voice that seems to disappear.
Ellis: "Well then..... Do you want to check here with your hands? If it's a measurement, then there's no problem."
Kate: "...............I got it."
(It's just an extra of his body measurements, just to make sure......)
Like a butterfly lured by sweet nectar, I slipped my hand there again.
Ellis: “Ah... Haa….."
As I stroke him slowly while watching him, Ellis lets out a hot exhale of aggravation.
Ellis: “Miss, Kate…..”
(.....I'm weird. I can't take my eyes off him.)
He is so lovely, so cute, so disturbed by my hand that I want to see more of him.
Driven by the impulse, I moved my fingers with a strong and weak pressure so that Ellis could feel good.
Ellis: “……Nngh”
Kate: “Here…..is it?”
Ellis: "Nnm..... There, it feels good...."
Tumblr media
His hips swayed loosely as he rubbed against my hand.
I was happy to know that I wasn't the only one who wanted to be touched.
(.....I want you to feel even better with my hand.)
At first, it was only my fingertips, but gradually I used the whole palm of my hand to wrap it up and continued to stimulate it.
Ellis: “……Nngh!”
Kate: "I-I'm sorry. Did I push too hard...?"
Ellis: “No... I'm fine. I just felt so good I was about to lose it."
Ellis: “You can touch me however you like. ....I'll make my place exclusive to you, Miss Kate."
(I, exclusive….)
The haze in my mind that I felt when I thought Ellis might have let someone else touched him cleared up.
(I see….. I wanted to monopolise you.)
(I didn't want anyone else to touch or see Ellis...that's what I thought)
If you know your feelings, there is only one thing to do.
As time permits, I continued to touch where only I was allowed and stare at Ellis, who exhaled shallowly.
Fin.
Masterlist
———————————
tagging+* @yonaaaahowell
232 notes · View notes
daryldixonfanfiction · 2 months
Text
What you fight for pt.5 - chery🍒 (*18+)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
masterlist
Summary: Daryl is hurt after ending the clamers. As Julia begins to tend to his wounds he can't stop himself from giving into his deepest desire...
Warnings: *18+, SMUT! los of virginity, unprotected p in v, fingering, touched starved Daryl, age gape, fluff, angst, mentions of blood and death, brief mentions of atemt of SA, protective Daryl,
possesive!Daryl.
Wc: 5k
Their silence spoke volumes of what had happened.
Daryl steered her through the abandoned neighborhood as sundowns' last light glowed against their backs, casting shadows on the asphalt. Julia looked downwards, their hands joined between them. The terrifying nightmare she had been woken to hung around her throat -literally. Everything hurt, her body was still recovering from a sprained ankle, head trauma, the hit she had suffered from the crash and her bruised throat throbbed terebully. 
Her gaze returned to their shadows. 
Julia tried to find it within herself to accept what had happened. Because for Julia -to find acceptance was to find peace. Though it was easier said than done. Reminding herself that other women had endured far worse, but it felt like one of the worst things that had ever happened to her, making it difficult coming to terms with, especially when it happened just moments ago.
The house was left further and further behind, they continued to walk silently until she could feel Daryl letting go of her hand. His loss of touch missed instantly. 
“Stay close.”
Daryl moved in front, leading the way through a white picket fence. It was swinging wide open, welcoming them to white house with a few limp walkers, dead on the overgrown yard. Standing behind him on the porch as he bangs on the front door, alerting anny walkers that could be inside Then they enter and Julia closes the door behind them looking at Daryl, but he wasn't looking at her when he spoke and ordered.
“Stay here.”
Julia did just that, waiting in the hall, patiently for him to sweep the house. The house seemed to be recently lived in and it wasn't in bad shape nor ransacked, if she guessed it looked like a prepper had been living here, probably sins the start, before the turn. There were poles of wax surrounding spent candles on the small table in front of her and if she glanced into the kitchen she could see a dining table, set with a plait of dinner that had been left to root by the resident, indicating the person did not make it. 
Daryl emerged from his sweeping, bow hanging in his left hand which was strange, he always favors his right. Julia moved towards him, and asked,
“Is it safe?”
Julia tried to meet his eyes as Daryl let out a sigh before answering.
"Yeah. It's safe.”
Julia tried to search his face once more, he seemed avoidant as she did so, opting to simply look to the floor. And when he stayed silent in a way that was unlike him, Julia tried and began.“Daryl-  but he cut her off before she could say more.
“The place is nailed up tight. The only way in is through the front door. There's food, running water and electricity. The light should be kept to a minimum though.”
Julia nodes. It made sense when the house looked the way that it did. But she worried greatly about his well-being when he seemed so…not himself, and he hasn't really been himself ever since he had shown up…covered in blood.
The unfavoring of his right hand gave it away. Dried blood stains marks his knuckles, and Julia swore she could see his hand shaking in what looked to be pain, though he seemed to be hiding it well.
Her face changed, and she inhaled - a distraction from her own pain and stated worldly,
"You're hurt.”
Daryl seemed to notice the moment she pointed it out. Perhaps he hadn't felt the pain he was in - she didn't know - all she knew was to care for him, then hurriedly she made him move to the living room, “sit…I’ll get something…”
She gestured for the family sized sofa. For a moment she thought he wouldn't, but then he sat down. With that she began and looked for anything to treat his wound. 
Reentering the living room Julia hurried towards him, placing down a med pack and some rags with water to wet, then turned on the lantern that was placed on the coffee table beside his crossbow and the red machete. Even though it didn't light up the whole rome itself, she pulled the curtains down behind them, just to be safe. Returning to him she grabbed a blanket off the sofa, draping it over his shoulders.
He had sunken down into the sofa, elbows resting on his knees and the way his head hung he looked exhausted -as if the weight of the world had finally caught up to him. Julia stood in front of him. Dropping down to kneel between his knees. Carefully, Julia reached for his wounded hand with both of hers, asking softly,
“Let me see.” Daryl began to pull back, making Julia repeat herself, “Let me see.”
With that Daryl relented and Julia's soft hands remained, her eyes attentively examining the damage. 
“It’s fractured.” Julia frowned in concern.
“Maybe a hairline,” Daryl said, down playing the obvious injury he had suffered, “It'll heal fast.”
Julia didn't believe that for a second when she could clearly feel his hand trembling under her touche. Her hair fell a bit making her pull it behind her ear and Julia felt him watching her hands work as she went on and disinfected the broken skin on the swelling knuckles, before wrapping it up with an elastic compression bandage, much as he had done for her ankle. 
The soft glow of the lantern revealed the lower part of hice face, and she said ever so gently,
“Looks like you’ll live,” she placed the med pack on the tabelle behind her, closing it shut, “I would say it will feel better within 3 or 5 days or so, and it will be held within a month.” Then grabbed the water bottle and the rags she had found, “But only if you let it rest that is...” 
He hummed in agnolishment, and she could feel him looking down, watching her intently where she was and she went on to push herself to a stand with a hand on his thigh for leverage. She felt him tense as she pushed herself up, the rags and bottle of water in the other. His head tilted and he let her seat herself beside him on the sofa. Placing the things in her lap, turning to properly take a look at him, making her frown with worry of his bloody state. Swallowing anxiously she began to soak the rags, asking even though the answer could be something she didn't want to be true.
“All this blood….Is it….?”
As if he knew what she was trying to say, he answered simply, “ 's not mine.”
She sighed in relief. Reaching for his face to clean the dried blood off of him, knowing he would never do it himself. Suddenly Daryl stopped her with his good hand, holding her wrist inches from his face, the blanket fell off his shoulders at the motion and began to say, “I’m fine-”
“No. You're not,” Julia frowned. “Daryl…Let me take care of you.” 
A moment passed between them as he held her there. Then. She could feel him giving in, the hold on her wrist gone and so was the warmth off his skin.
Taking his face with one hand she began and cleaned the blood from his chin with the other down to his neck. She worked scrubbing the crimson from his stubble gently, notesting a deep scratch on his trout. A blooming bruce covered his under eye, on his left eyebrow there was a thin cut already scabbing and then there was the noticeable split lip.  Being this close his eyes were visebulle, though they never met her gaze. 
It was left unsaid, but she knew he had been part of the men he had saved her from. Julia inhaled and asked, breaking their silence. 
“How did you end up with them?”
And maybe for the first time he looked at her, even though it was just for a second she saw regret and the gilt in his eyes. Daryl let out a breath before answering. 
“I was chasing the car, as long as I could. There was now way of telling which way it went. I guess I must have dozed off and that's when they found me. I knew they were bad, but they had a code. It was simple. stupid, but it was something. It was enough.
“And you were alone.” Julia said in understanding, watching how his eyes looked far away as he continued.
“Said they were headed for sum neighborhood, to gather supplies. I was hanging back. I was gonna leave. That's when I saw the car, and I thought…. “
She knew what he was trying to say....Seeing the care, thinking she was dead. And she had thought the same about him, making her squeeze his arm in reassurance. 
A pause…then
“So I stayed,” Daryl confessed.  “Right there when I saw you… like that…” 
He couldn't say more and Julia's heart sank, because she knows why. She kept her eyes closed, squeezing him tighter, shaking her head at the thought of him blaming himself over what had happened. It wasn't his fault, he couldn't have done more than he already had. Julia set the used rags aside, then returned her hand where she had squeezed him and did it once again. 
“Look at me." Her command was soft -yeat grounding.
Slowly he did his eyes sparkling with unshed tears, brows pulled down into an expression of sorrow -sorrow for her it seemed. He had such pure eyes his firm exterior could almost had fold her, but all she saw was a man desperate for something to hold onto. 
Looking into his eyes Julia smiled through the sadness, comforting him with the words she wished she had been given. “Don’t blame yourself over things you can’t control, it will not change the things you blame yourself for,” Then she took his hand to place it over her beating heart, holding it there and he let her, “Instead. Focus on the things that will move you forward.” 
It was the only way she knew how to show him the meaning of what she was telling him. That she wasn't gone and he wasn't alone. Rubbing the back of his hand soothingly with her thumb still pressing him there as her heart thumped beneath she could see him begin to relax and the sadness of his features turned into something -something she found hard to read. His eyes traveled where she pressed him to her chest and he watched how her thumb moves on his skin -how the rise and fall of her breting moves her ribcage. Her soothing motions stills and she questions him, eyebrows coming together, 
“Do you understand?” 
There was no answer. 
His hand began to move upwards, slowly, and he looked to be in a sort of trance watching his own movement from her chest, collarbone, along her throat, stopping at her face. His larger hand holds her there and Julia could only stare in return, confused as just moments ago he had been on the verge of tears. She wondered if what she had told him was the source of such a thing? 
His face was worn by the seasons and by the life he had lived. His under eyes were dark, unrested. But there was also a softness there and she could feel it too. She had seen it in his eyes but now his pupils were blown wide, but if he had just...done what she thought he
had done...he was probably coming down from it. But something told her otherwise. It was famileure, the way he was looking at her and it reminded her of their dinner at the memorial home.
It was that same way he was looking at her, onely more intense as if deep wanting, a need of something. 
Placing her smaller hand on top of his Julia surged his eyes, maybe she thought she would find the answer there? His thumb began to brush the skin on her cheek then it traveled just as slowly like before, bruising over her button lip. Searching his gaze once more just to be chore it's what she thought she noticed how the black has almost swallowed the blue of his irises. It was almost unnoticeable but being this close to one another she saw how he glanced down to her lips then back up again. 
oh…
Julia blinked at him, it surprised her that he wanted to. She had never thought of him in that way before. Not until now and without much thought she spoke to him,
“It’s ok. You can kiss me.”
His adam's apple bobs, his only focus is her lips. His breathing is more laborde and she can feel how his other hand runs through her hair with his fingers until they still - cradling the back of her head. Then tilts her head as he tilts his own and leans in; she closes her eyes, feeling her heart pick up with nerves of anticipation of what is to cume.
And then... 
His lips pressed against hers. They felt rough, not like hers. A stark contrast as stubble rubbed against her face. It was slow and soft at first, him holding her there and she holding on to his jacket. The kisses turned hungrier, slopier and needier. The way he was pressing his lips onto hers, forcing his tongue into her mouth made it seem like he hadn’t felt human contact in years. 
It was…intense…As if deeply needing. Needing something.
When the need for oxygen became too much he broke the kiss to remove his jacket, tossing it aside along with the layer underneath, leaving him in a black t-shirt and jeans. His lips returned to hers and he dipped down, kissing her even needier than before. Without her releasing he unbuttons her cardigan, button after button and when he was done his arms took hold of her to gently being laid against the softness of the sofa, never breaking the kiss. Moving on top of her, settling between her knees she had naturally spread open, welcoming him there with her arms wrapped around his neck to keep him close. She could feel how his hip brushed against her inner thigh before he rested against her completely.  
It was due to his protective nature knowing he could protect her from what’s out there, including those men. It made her feel safe as she laid beneath him, caged between his forearms, elbows on either side of her head, keeping that little space so as not to crush her. She tried to meet his more forceful kisses but she had only made out a couple of times before and therefore followed his lead. Carding her fingers through his hair -It was clear that Daryl was nothing like the boys she had been with, and she liked it.
She continued to run her hand through his hair, smoothing away from his face and then, gripping the nape of his neck as he pulled her tighter to himself, calloused hands slipping under her long skirt  sliding along her bare thighs exposing her underwear beneath, dampened by the arousal. 
He let out a low groan when he pressed into her, he moved his mouth from hers to slide along her jawline. He sounded different than any time she had heard him before. He moved upward again and kissed her and began to rock back and forth against her, and she didn't miss the squeak the sofa made.
She was trembling beneath him. His hands were all over and his touch felt desperate. Almost animalistic in a sense that made her feel vulnerable, but not afraid -she knew he would never hurt her. She had felt nothing like it, being touched and kissed the way he did -not ever. It felt as if her heart was going to explode at every giving moment and her body only wanted more, more and more.
He continued to rock against her -her underwear and his ruff jeans preventing the friction from going any further. It was embarrassing how wet she had gotten at this point -she worried she was leaving the evidence on his pants -and she heard him breath lowly-
“Julia.”
It sounded like a plea, she didn't know. Her mind was all over -spinning…not knowing how it had all come to this. His temple almost met hers and she noticed how he had closed his eyes as if controlling something with himself. Her hands moved soothingly along his face, smoothening hair away to better see the handsome man above her and she answered reassuringly, sensing his search for something.
“I’m here.”
It was all the response he needed, bringing the soaked underwear with his hands -sliding them past her ankles…He was quick to return between her knees, still spread open for him and only him. He kissed her. He seemd to like kissing her and even though he was a bit ruff in his way she still liked it though she tried to slow him down soothing his face once more. She ran her thumb over his cheek to comfort that deep need he seemed to have. 
And then she felt his ruff, broad fingers traveling down and down until finding the ace she had tried to satisfy herself but it never had felt enuff. But as he touched that sensitive place between her legs she could hardly breathe. The anticipation made her mind spin more than it did before. She felt her toes curl, and she reached to embrace him to ground herself to something when she felt so much she almost didn't know what to do with herself. As he continued to move a sound escaped her and she welded herself from allowing more to pass her lips. Heat on her face bloomed of embarrassment; she had never made that noise before as she had always just breathed the noises out soundles into the night when she had dun it to herself. And that habit had become ingrained. 
To her surprise Daryl didn't seem to mind, not at all -prompting him to kiss her temple then after the first finger entered her son another one joined and it was becoming difficult to stay silent, making her hold onto his shirt tightly she worried she was gonna tear it apart. As his fingers moved in and out in a rhythmic motion -the wet sound between her legs was sinful. That also made her embarrassed even though she knew it to be natural. Julia tried to breathe it out but when it didn't work she tried soothing herself planting a kiss on his less stubbled cheek, leaving her lips there feeling how the blooming sounds in her throat had become dangerously close to pass her lips. 
When his fingers removed themselves she missed it instantly, she could never touch herself the way he had touched her…As he shifted -her mind flared with what they had just done, not notesting him positioning himself until he ordered breathlessly…
“Tell me no. Tell me to stop.” 
It caught her off guard -making her wonder if that was truly what he wanted when he was breathing the way he did. She embraced him comfortingly. He was grabbing the edge of the sofa holding himself above her with his forehead against the croak of her neck. Then his mouth pressed to the underside of her exposed jaw, speaking against her skin, "Just say the word and I’ll stop.”
Her Fingers gently prodded the nape of his neck -somewhat confused she hesitated for just a moment before whispering, “But, I want you to do it.” Then tugged the back of his shirt urgingly.
As he had been struck by her words -his inhale was charp. Lips returned to hers, starving and ruff, not gentle like her fingers running through his hair. Then suddenly, he was pressed against her entrance -making her tense in knowing of the pain that followed. The intrusion was slow and it felt larger than his fingers this time. A sound escaped her and it must have startled him, making him pause in his movements. The feeling was overwhelming, not painful, more like a stretch in a way. Breathing heavily against her she could feel how his chest expands and shrinks against her own. He spoke, voice sounding like gravel, “You alright?”
“Yes,” she breathed against his ear.
He pushed further -until he was all the way inside of her. In knowing what was to come Julia wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him closer to herself. He began to rock his hips, moving slowly inside of her. It was overwhelming at first but she could feel herself readjusting to him and the stretch forgotten as she became engulfed by the pleasure bilding inside of herself. She couldn't control the wimpers that escaped her though she tried to keep them to a minimum because of the embarrassment.
All she knew was kissing, the step after was new -making her bury her face in his shoulder, biting back sounds and gasps. Daryl's sounds were low and deep, it was beautiful in a way herring him vulnerable like that. Knowing a man like him would allow himself to be soft as he was with her now. It felt special. It was special. For her it was.
His hands were moving all over her body, it felt as if he was everywhere at once -still needing and needing and she couldn't give any more than she already did. She wrapped her legs around him, sending him deeper inside of her. A small cry escaped her, her head tilting back, and his body followed, pushing her deeper into the sofas bedding.
He then slowed his movements going as deep as he possibly could -as if he was trying to get her to make that sound again. Reaching for his face to slide her fingers over his dashing features. She couldn't help but wonder if he would ever touch her this way again…
Daryl continued his agonizing slow pace -rocking deeply with every stroke. His hand wanted to press into her neck, but he must have noticed the blooming bruises on her throat when he breathed the lowest she had ever heard him do before,
“They will never touch you again,” his thumb on her face pressed to her chin tilting her head towards him, “No one will, because I won't let them.”
“I know. I know” Julia breathed breathlessly.
Staring into his beautiful pools of blue, swallowed by their shared pleasure between them -she could feel his gaze never leaving her face when she closed her eyes, focusing on the feeling of him inside of her. She knew he was watching her reactions intently and she thought about how this was nothing she thought sex would be like -there was no speaking that she thought would leave her dirty afterwards. Instead it was Daryl’s protectiveness and how he touched her so desperately, yet softly with his hands traveling along her skin searching for something within her as their bodies moved in unison and deeper and deeper, until Julia couldn't help the small sounds leaving her lips, one after the other. It was obvious he liked them, each and every single one, because he kept his head close -as if to make sure he didn't miss the whimpers she’d make.
His movements quickend suddenly, making Julia hold on for dear life feeling how she was about to come undone. He grabbed hold of her hip with one hand as he trusted until he stilld completely with a grunt so low she could only describe as animalistic. He fell forward caging her once more with his forearms and hands to either side of her head to keep him from falling on her completely. Sweat was sticking between them where he had bunched up her skirt exposing her to him and she could feel the wetness flowing out of her and the smell of sex in the room.
Their chest heaving, both out of breath from what they had just done. And Julia knew that this was tame compared to what he was capable of. Because, after all, he is a very capable man.
His broad frame loomed over her, and he questioned -breathless, “You alright?”
Julia could onely hum in return as she was still coming down from her high, overwhelmed but in all the good ways possible. She could barely keep her eyes open as she felt him nudge her face with his nose seeking her attention and she gave it to him thru half lidded eyes.
“Hey,” concern was leased in his tone as stroke her cheek with a thumb. “You alright?” 
She swallowed thickly -before nodding, mind still swirling with so many feelings she didn't know where to put them, the pleasure of it all preventing her from thinking straight…
“Yes…Just tired”
He let out a breath of relief. Maybe he was worried he had hurt her somehow? But how could he have done that when he had been so gentle, asking for her to stop him if she didn't want to.
He leaned down -lips pressing to her lips before he moved to lay behind her and pulled the blanket around them she had put on his shoulders. She turned in his hold, snuggling into his warm chest, his arm naturally wrapped around her as his injured arm was draped over her waist.
Julia couldn't help but look in awe upon the man she had just shared the most cherist part of herself, her body. Never before had she felt as safe and close to someone as she did with him and this only made that feeling grow deeper within herself.
Minutes passed with him holding her flush against him and her admiring him beneath his chin, listening to his breathing and feeling the calming pace of his heart against her palm. It almost lulled her into sleep but before she could drift away Daryl confessed,
“I killed them -I killed them all.”
Julia's eyes widened, but she knew, deep down she knew that that was what had happened, the reason he had hidden the bodies, the reason he made her hide, not wanting her to come down. Her gaze left his face where she could see him staring at the selling with a faraway look in his eyes. Julia swallowed before answering,
“I know.” A few moments of silence passed and then, “Every second I was trapped in that car, I was only thinking of you….And when he told me you were–
“He?” Daryl cut her off mid sentence, his hold on her tightening and she could feel his heart racing through his shirt.
“The man who found me,” Julia clarified, “Apparently I was fighting walkers and he saved me. Or that's what he told me.” then clutched his shirt before continuing, “But the more I think about it… It wasn't walkers I was fighting.”
Julia waited for him to say something, anything but he never did so she continued, “You should have seen his eyes. I will never forget that look he had…
He held his breath and he questiond her, “Did he?”
Immediately Julia shook her head against him. The mere thought of it made her sick, “No. I stopped him before he could.”
“Good,” Daryl breathed in return, still looking at the ceiling.
But the growing guilt inside of herself had grown tremendously sinnes it happened, eating at her in every waking moment even haunting her in her sleep. Leaning her cheek against his chest, making her speak against the the fabric there,
“Daryl, I did something terrible.” 
“What you mean?” 
Julia could hear the confusion in his voice but she had to close her eyes as she told him what she did that night, and she told him,
“He got mad when I asked him to turn back, to let me go and he just got so…angry. And then I noticed he had locked me up with one of them handcuffs... So I panicked. I don’t exactly remember how but the car hit something and the next thing I saw was walkers…everywhere.” A shaky breath, then, “He was being eaten alive and the only thing I could think of was saving myself as he screamed for me to help him…But I didn't. I Just left him to die… like that.” Julia completely buried her face into him, softly crying as she held onto his shirt but then she felt his hand stroking the back of her head soothing her to the best of his capabilities. 
When Julia had calmed down a bit Daryl spoke with a voice devoid of emotion, “Some people deserve to die like that.”
“But, that's cruel.” Julia's voice broke, sniffling through the reaments of her tears.
“That’s the truth.”
But It was hard to accept such an ugly reality. At least inside of herself even if she was good at accepting reality, but this time she couldn't. Not yet at least. Drying her tears as she unmoved her face from his chest now dampened by her tears she said,
“I don’t want it to be.”
“I know.” Daryl said softly, continuing to stroke her head.
There were no more words spoken after that, engulfed by what they had said and what they had done, but it wasn't an uncomfortable silence, it was a silence that made one sleepy. Julia very much so. Her eyes continued to get heavier -and Daryl’s body was relaxed against her, welcoming it. Once more she spoke but it was quiet and laced with slip but she said it anyways before she drifted in the solace of sleep in his arms.
“I missed you,” and she fell asleep.
Pulling her closer to himself he left a kiss in her hair and then he whispered,
“I missed you too.” 
Series masterlist
Pt.6
80 notes · View notes
d3m0nicdream · 4 months
Text
Prom Night: Colby Brock (Part 2)
**Colby Brock Prom AU Poll Winner**
Colby Brock x fem!reader - a budding story about two people believed to be unobtainable to anyone, until they set their sights on eachother.
tags: Slow-burn romance, multi-parts, POV change, kissing, drinking, partying. (smut in later parts)
If you havn't read the 1st part:
Part 1
***************************************
"Do you have date for Prom yet?" Kat asks through the screen of the facetime call. You were rummaging through all your dresses and outfits trying to pick on out for this party you guys were going to tonight.
"Ugh, don't remind me." You sigh. It was going to be really hard to find a prom date that wasn't looking to score you because of a stupid game.
"I just want to find a genuine guy. This sucks."
"Bitch, prom is next weekend. What are we going to do? This is senior prom we are talking about." Kat flails her arms before crossing them in thought.
"Why don't you just ask Sam. You literally won't stop thinking about him. Just go for it." You wiggle your brows at her as her face twists in disgust.
"Ew, I'm not asking a boy to prom. They need to ask me. Duh.... And I don't think about Sam Golbach. Gross." You laugh at her response. She was so dramatic but you wouldn't trade her for the world. She was the only one that didn't turn her back on you after the 'game' started. She never got jealous or changed her view of you in any way. She was indeed your best friend.
"What about you and Mr. Brock? You're telling me there isn't anything going on there?" You roll your eyes, trying to ignore her question.
"Bitch, you're dumb. Do you think I should just go with a little black dress moment? What do you think?" You hold it up against your body, modeling it for her.
"Oh yeah! And I have a cute little red one, we can complement each other!" You nod in agreement, happy to have a plan of what to wear, now it was a matter of being ready and looking hot. You had to make the 'game' interesting.
"Where is this party anyway. You didn't tell me anything except 'we are going to a party.' and now I'm curious." She sheepishly looks over at you.
"Well, it's sort of... at Sam and Colby's house." Your eyes go wide.
"Why wouldn't you tell me that!"
"Because I was afraid you wouldn't go." Kat was right. after what happened at school, the last thing you would have wanted was to go to Colby and Sam's house but it looks like this time, you have no choice.
"You are so lucky I love you." You laugh at Kat. It was a good thing there was going to be alcohol because you were going to need it.
*************************************************
"This is their house?" You marvel. It was huge. Where did they get the money for this?
"Oh yeah, this is your first major party. Yeah, they always host the biggest 'Before Prom Party' both this year and last year. It's always a rager." You pull your dress down a bit, suddenly very aware of how short it was. Kat grabs your arm and pulls you to the door. Unfortunately you don't go unnoticed. The minute you and Kat walk in the door, the music stops and the room goes silent before you hear somebody speak from the top of the stairs in front of you.
"Y/N is here." The audience cheers and its deafening. The music starts to play and a path opens for you towards the kitchen where there sits a familiar dark haired boy staring at you.
"Y/N has shown up to one of MY parties? This is insane." Colby giggles at your look and pours a drink, handing it to you.
"For you." Colby winks at you while holding out the red solo cup.
"Hey, what about me?" Kat spats.
"You're not the guest of honor. I see you all the time." Colby scoffs.
"I'M the one that got her to come here so I deserve some compensation." Kat stomps her foot like a child, seething at Colby's sarcasm.
"It's okay, Kat. I gotchu." Sam speaks from behind us as he makes his way into the kitchen.
"I'LL show my gratitude for the arrival of our guest thanks to you, Kat."
Thank you. At least someone appreciates me." She scowls at Colby before he laughs and passes you to leave.
"Have fun, drink up." He winks at you before walking out.
"You never told me you were sort of close with them, Kat." You kind of feel a little sad.
"I go to a lot of their parties so it's kind of inevitable to not be social with them. Plus, I'd rather talk to them than any of these knuckleheads but when it's school, we don't speak." She explains. It still would have been nice to know. Regardless, you down your drink and pour another. You came to get drunk and drunk you shall be. You and Kat are glued to each other's side until you are about four more drinks deep. The night was going exactly how you thought, every man coming up to you trying to shoot their shot. It was exhausting. This was the point when you end up losing Kat and go looking for her. The only problem is, now the drinks are starting to hit you. Your vision is blurry and foggy, everything is delayed. The music is unbearably loud and now without Kat, you were starting to panic.
You find an empty corner and stand there trying to gain your bearings but nothing was working. Your eyes scan the sea of dancing bodies for Kat but no luck.
"Hey Y/N. You okay?" Your thoughts were disrupted by Colby who you were pretty sure had just appeared out of nowhere. His hand touches your arm as if to stabilize you.
"To be honest, I'm fucked up and need to go home." You try to yell over the music but it was so loud. He looks around and nods for you to follow him. You both go up the stairs and down a busy hallway, bee-lining it to a door which Colby pulls out a key and unlocks. He leads you inside and the door shuts with him locking it again.
It was Colby's room. It reflected him almost to a tee. The dark and brooding lighting, the black bed sheets, curtains and couch. you were undeniably in his room.
"I know it's super overwhelming out there. It's more quiet in here. You can sit on the couch. Gimme a second." He rushes to the bathroom attached to the room and shuts the door. You look around the slightly spinning room. It was way more quiet here. Your headache was slowly subsiding.
Colby comes back out and he sits next to you.
"Are you okay?" He places his hand on your knee. You nod your head, not saying anything. Your eyes dart to his. they were a very pretty blue. The contrast even stronger with his dark, black hair. You take in his facial features, darting down his neck, his chest and then subconsciously his crotch. Your train of thought fumbled by his finger grabbing your chin, forcing you to look at him.
"Y/N. Are you good? You need to lay down?" Without thinking you lean forward, pressing your lips against his gently. His lips were surprisingly soft. It was probably the alcohol, you were never this forward. It takes Colby a minute to realise what's happening before he starts following along. His lips dancing with yours, lightly biting your bottom lip. You decide you weren't trying to fight it so you let his tongue slide past, exploring every part of your mouth. The heat of your body starts to rush to your head. The kiss getting heavier with every second. You eventually move into his lap, straddling his legs. Your hands find the back of his neck, pulling him into you. Your bodies are pressed close together while his hands find their place on your now uncovered ass, your dress riding up your thighs. You were about to make some very bad decisions. Or so you thought before Colby breaks the kiss.
"Hey, I think we should tone it down a bit." Colby moves your hair out of your blushing face, your feelings on top of the alcohol misting your face with a pink hue. You lean in again and start kissing him once more, you can feel his arousal under yours as you desperately try to deepen the kiss but again, he pulls away.
"Y/N, seriously. Please, we are not doing anything else. You're drunk. You need to go to sleep."
"Mmmm you're right but... I feeeeel so good nooow." You slur as he stares into your eyes. Your hands roam his chest and then his abs. You pout and he leans in placing a quick peck, taking you by surprise due to being impaired.
"I know you do but I think we should revisit this when you're sober, okay?" With his hands still on your ass, he locks his fingers while leaning forward. He stands up, picking you up in the process and walking you over to his bed. He places you down and walks over to his dresser, grabbing a shirt and tossing it your way. You barely catch it and immediately starts taking your dress off with the awkward realisation that you would need help with the zipper.
"uhm... Colby , could you.."
"Yeah, lemme just..." He delicately pulls the zipper down your back, causing chills to run down your spine.
"Thanks. Now turn back around." You mumble. You don't have to tell him twice. He patiently waits for you to finish.
Once you are covered, he lays you down and covers you with the blanket. He turns to leave but you grab him quickly.
"Colby, will you take me to Prom?" You try your best not to slur your words. You genuinely wanted him to. He chuckles at your request.
"I'll give you an answer when you wake up, okay?" You nod before finally letting go of his shirt. Within seconds, you are out cold. He turns off the lights and heads back out to the party.
******************************************
Colby's POV:
Now that she was asleep, I check the time. 3am. The music had gotten quieter and over half the amount of people were still here and leaving.
'I need to find Sam.' I start looking around the house, picking up cups and plates and throwing away trash as I find it. I head back up the stairs when I don't find him in the kitchen or living room. I hit Sam's room, knocking on the door. He was definitely in there as I heard him shuffling to answer.
"Hey, what's up." He peeks his head out, clearly very much not wearing any clothes. He was holding his door close to shut so I couldn't see past him but there was definitely someone in there with him.
"Hey, tell Kat that Y/N is asleep in my room. I'm going to be sleeping in the living room. I'll clean up a little before I sleep." Sam blushes when he figures out that I know. He nods and closes the door, returning to doing whatever they were doing.
I yawn and start walking around with a trash bag. Everyone left except Jake, Corey, Seth and Nate, them being passed out in random areas of the house. It's not long before I decide the house is clean enough and I pass out too, on the couch in the living room.
******************************************************
Hope you guys are enjoying the series so far. Thanks for all the love
99 notes · View notes
yunjinsstar · 8 months
Text
weak, only for you. | tim drake x reader
Tumblr media
Tim Drake's philosophy is that sleep is for the weak. This is not a good enough reason for you to let him go without sleep. (Alternatively, a fic where Tim Drake is coaxed back to bed because we all need sleep, no matter how necessary it is to stay awake.)
pairing/characters: tim drake/reader genre: fluff tags/warnings: soulmates, sleep deprivation word count: 1.6k crossposted on ao3
Tumblr media
You turned onto your side as you tried to get some shut-eye. Usually, you could get your eight hours of sleep but it felt odd sleeping without the extra weight of your partner, Tim. You understood his job didn't really allow for a lot of rest but he wasn't a robot, he was a human being. He had limits.
Tim hadn't slept for a couple nights now. The boys were hot on the trail of a new crime boss that recently moved his trade to Gotham from Star City. Green Arrow had been of much help but the home of Batman needed its' own vigilantes on the case.
While you appreciated the work Tim did as Red Robin for the city, especially in times like this, it made it especially harder to let him do his thing. You didn't sleep well at night knowing your partner and soulmate was sleep-deprived.
Time had run out for your patience.
You grumbled as you peeled your woollen blanket off your body. You did not appreciate having to sacrifice your warmth just to get Tim into bed. Gotham City was not a warm place at night, in both the literal and figurative sense.
Tim's insomniac-like habits were worse beforehand when he would stay at the Batcave. According to Bruce, Tim's 'bed' consisted of a thin blanket and a pillow off of the living room couch. Mind you, he didn't even use it to sleep, he used it for a quick power nap.
You eventually convinced to build his own Bat-computer at your shared apartment. He folded after you told him *exactly* how lonely you felt when he was away. With great reluctance, he left the Wayne manor that night and slept for a good five hours.
As soon as he woke, he started getting supplies to build a mini Bat-computer fit for the apartment. When you walked out to the kitchen for breakfast, you were met with a note on the bench: "Hi love, I've just gone to the tech store. I made eggs and bacon for you. I promise I won't be long. I love you :)"
Tim spent the entire day building the computer. He downgraded to only three monitors but the PC itself was still the same quality as Bruce's. He even improved on it, adding extra features. 
Your genius finished his project on the same day, proud of his achievement. You kissed him softly as a congratulations and a thank you. He was grateful you made him come back home.
Now, the only hassle was having to travel outside, rather than across town. Wrapped in a cardigan you picked up from the bedroom floor, you watched your soulmate type away at the keyboard.
The monitors displayed maps tracking all criminal activity in real-time, personal information on the crime boss, and details of his criminal record. Unsurprisingly, the desk was littered with empty coffee cups, of which you could count eight.
If Tim noticed you, he hadn't shown it by now. You padded over to him, a quiet yawn escaping your lips. Approaching him, you stood behind him as you placed a gentle kiss on his cheek. You trailed your hand down his arm to his forehand, where the red mark stained his pale skin.
His body shivered as you brushed your fingers over the mark before settling your hand on his. 
You stared up at the Egyptian coffin. According to the Gotham City Museum, the sarcophagus you were looking at was extracted from the tomb of Hatshepsut, a famous female pharaoh who began her reign around 1473 BC. She was titled "The Queen Who Would Be King."
As you admired the detailing, you felt another body sidle up next to you. You weren't sure whether to break your stare to assess the person beside you or just continue looking. You opted for the latter.
The two of you stood there in silence until you saw him enter your vision to read the plaque in front of the glass display. This time, you got a good look at him. He didn't look too old, probably in his mid-20s.
He was wearing a collared shirt under a Gotham University hoodie. The sweatpants he wore bore the Gotham University logo as well. You wondered why you'd never seen him around the campus before.
Deciding to entertain the unknown, you stepped up to the plaque, reading it alongside him. Granted, you'd already read it but he didn't need to know that.
His slender hand drifted over the words. It had some scars and discolouration. You desperately wanted to know the secrets behind them but curiosity killed the cat.
"Did you know that Egyptians thought the most significant part of your life was death?" he spoke without warning. You looked up at him, bewildered by not only the fact but by the tone of his voice.
It was rich and full, but had a tinge of aching behind it. It felt like he was hiding something but you couldn't tell exactly what.
"No, I didn't. Why, do you agree?" you asked tentatively. For all you know, he could be a creep. It was never good to easily trust anyone you met in Gotham.
"Not at all. There's so much merit that comes from living," he said softly. It was at this moment his piercing sky blue eyes met yours. His face looked familiar but you couldn't place it.
"Some of us aren't living, though," you tore your eyes away from his, "we're just surviving."
"A pity," he agreed, his hand still resting on the steel plaque. You looked over to him once more to see his head hung low. He was a tainted soul in the city of the living dead.
You couldn't explain why you did so, but your hand reached out from your side to rest gently on his. So much for not easily trusting people.
"Maybe one day, peace will find us," you pondered. You only hoped his eyes would find yours.
They did, as his head rose.
"I only hope so," he added.
When he finished his sentence, your hand started to tingle. His was too, as his eyes widened at the sensation. Suddenly, a bright burst of light shone through the museum. You lifted your hand from his and turned it over to see your whole right palm covered in red.
His hand remained on the plaque as he took in the red hand mark branding his left forehand. Your mouth parted slightly as you gazed up at him. He mirrored your shocked expression.
"You're..." he trailed off.
"I can't believe this. We're soulmates?" you asked to no one in particular. You touched your left palm gently and shivered at the feeling, the area still sensitive.
The mystery man beside you finally turned to face you completely and it was then you realised who he was. Tim Drake, successor of Bruce Wayne as CEO of Wayne Enterprises, the corporate group that owns the entire city, was your soulmate. 
He attended Gotham U but according to one of your friends who was doing the same degree as him, he never really showed up to class. That made sense, but you couldn't imagine doing university and running a corporation.
"I'm Tim Drake," he stuck his right hand out. You took it in yours as you introduced yourself to him as well.
"I would've never guessed my soulmate was going to be a rich business CEO," you mused. He laughed and dear God, it was heavenly to listen to.
"I would've never guessed my soulmate was going to be the most insightful and beautiful woman I've ever met," he said. Your cheeks flushed at his kind words.
"Oh, I'm not anything like that. Once you get to know me, you'll find I'm just as ordinary as anyone else in Gotham," you denied. He clasped your fingertips and brought your hand up to his mouth, pressing a light kiss to your forehand.
"In Gotham City, no one's ordinary."
"What are you doing up, my love?" Tim mumbled, shifting your hands so his now laid atop of yours. He rubbed his thumb across your knuckles.
"Trying to get you to sleep with me," you responded, fatigue evident in your voice. You were heavily relying on the chair Tim was sitting on to hold yourself up.
"This case is important," he tried to reason.
"Your sleep is important too. When was the last time you got more than four hours of sleep, Tim?" you asked him, knowing the answer full well. He gulped as he let the silence act as his response.
"Exactly. Please, come to bed," you pleaded with him. He sighed, contemplating his decision.
"I love you, sweetheart but we're so close. I need to make sure I'm awake for when there's new activity," he told you. Now, you were getting frustrated.
"Timothy Drake," he immediately made eye contact with you as you took your hand away from his, "I'm not asking you to sleep for me. It's for you. I don't like seeing you barely alive and drinking unhealthy amounts of coffee."
His eyes softened as he saw how irritated you'd gotten.
"So, would it be that bad if you just got some good sleep?" you asked, tired of having to do this all the time.
"I guess not," he replied. You backed away as he pushed away from the desk and stood up. He took your hand in his as he tucked in the chair and walked to the bedroom with you.
The two of you tucked yourselves in and you faced in to each other. Your left hand laid on the pillow, the red soulmark faint in the glow of the Gotham moonlight.
His fingers traced over your palm lines ever so gently. The touch was soothing. He softly smiled at you and you returned the smile.
"Thank you. I just get so caught up in it, I forget," he whispered.
"You're in luck, because I'm always going to be around to remind you."
© yunjinsstar 2023. do not copy this work.
160 notes · View notes
basketofmooneggs · 1 year
Text
Season four of Bones is the only openly LGBT season of the whole show. There are four or five episodes, of a 20+ episode season, that deal with LGBT topics. Obviously, it's a bit hamfisted and silly some of the things that our very smart scientist characters like Dr. Brennan and Dr. Saroyan seemingly know nothing about.
In episode 7, "The He in the She" (terrible title, I know), the plot revolves around a transgender woman who's body washes up on the beach in the Chesapeake and Dr. Saroyan, coroner from New York City, has seemingly no idea why someone would have a "male pelvis" and a visible vagina. It's absolutely unimaginable, but I understand why it's done. The presumed audience of the show are straight, cis-gender people who don't know much about transgender people. However, the episode itself is generally respectful of this transgender woman. She wasn't murdered because she was transgender and before she died she was a community leader and had a romantic relationship with a man who knew and accepted that she was trans. Overall, it's a heartwarming episode and no one throws around any slurs.
Literally the next episode, Angela's ex-girlfriend is introduced and they end up getting back together. Over the course of the season, Angela and Roxy are shown onscreen kissing and going on dates and having emotional conversations. The rest of the lab goes with it without question and the only question Hodgins has is whether or not Angela broke it off with him because she was a lesbian the whole time. Unfortunately, they don't use the word bisexual at all because it was 2008-09 when the season aired. However, every single friend and family member is 100% accepting and there is only mild, implied fetishism of lesbians which is better than I've seen it shows aired like last week.
Then, towards the end of the season, in episode 23, Dr. Tanaka is introduced as a non-binary character. Dr. Tanaka is a forensic anthropologist from Japan who is visiting and described as being part of a subculture called Kei that aims for androgyny in all things. Unfortunately, this episode has more annoying and queasy bits than the previous episodes, like everyone being allergic to using "they" as a singular pronoun and no one, but Dr. Brennan, Booth, and Sweets respecting Dr. Tanaka's identity. Angela is most of out character in this episode because we know she is only attracted to the soul of a person; she's literally stated it on screen, so there is no reason for her to be obsessed with Dr. Tanaka's gender. It makes more sense for Hodgins and Cam and to be interested in Dr. Tanaka's gender because both of them see themselves as heterosexual and attraction to a non-binary person challenges this for them. It's a frustrating episode because they decide to make Angela so focused on discovering Dr. Tanaka's really gender. That she gives them a hug and claims to feel a penis move even though, it was way out of line and Dr. Tanaka is obviously made uncomfortable by the hug. It sucks.
Anyway, there is some good and some bad, but overall a lot more good LGBT rep that I ever would have expected from a 2008-09 network television show. I just wish they would have continued to do more in the later seasons. I'm sure there are some episodes I'm forgetting. Plop them in the comments.
505 notes · View notes
charmandabear · 4 months
Text
instagram
Leather and Lace
Summary
Lady Estelle wasn't expecting to fall for her tailor, of all people. But with everything under her control during the day, she's more than content to cede control to him at night.
Pairing: Astarion/F!OC Rating: E Word Count: 5.7k Tags/Warnings: unprotected sex, orgasm denial, safeword discussion, light bondage, d/s dynamic, p in v sex, vampire sex, biting, vampire bites, blood drinking, sexual tension, casual classism, AU, (sorta, you can make an argument), praise kink
Read on AO3
Something in me turned feral when I saw Hamrikaa's tailor!Astarion art and I needed to get this out of my system. It doesn't help that I work with costumes irl and I suddenly got a lot of opinions about Astarion and sewing.
I have more thoughts on this relationship, particularly with the class difference and power dynamics. I also really want a story with a plus size protag since I'm really tired of feeling like the implication is that all Tavs/OCs are the type 1 body. So let me know if that's something that appeals to you, or if you're interested in a longer version with more than just sexual tension and smut, lol.
Fucking Arfur.
It’s sundown on a Saturday and Lady Estelle Rosewinter is traipsing through the Lower City looking for a tailor. Arfur Gregorio had shown up to her masquerade several hours early already intoxicated. While trying to shoo him off the grounds, he had stepped on her gown, ripping the seam of the thigh high slit to a nearly obscene height. Now, as guests are beginning to arrive, she isn’t there to greet them and is rather passing shop after shop putting up their closing signs. 
She could have just chosen a different gown as her handmaiden Celia had suggested, except that it took her so long to get into the damn thing. She thought that getting it fixed would take but a minute. It did not occur to her that, given the hour, finding an available tailor would prove so difficult.
Estelle is about to give up when she sees a dim little shop out of the corner of her eye. It’s not on the main drag, but rather up a quiet alleyway. But there’s no mistaking the sign.
Threads of Starlight
The door to the shop is clearly open, so she rushes in, desperate to speak with the proprietor.
“My apologies, I know you’re probably about to close, but I have an emergency, and I promise that I’ll pay handsomely for the inconvenience–” she cuts herself off as the tailor walks out from the back. He’s so much more attractive than she would’ve expected from someone of his station. His clothes are humble but understandably incredibly well-fitting, his trousers gently hugging his lean legs and the sleeves of his light linen top rolled up above his elbows, revealing pale, slender forearms. His silvery hair looks windswept and effortless, although Estelle knows it takes a practiced hand to get one’s hair just right like that. There’s a measuring tape slung around his neck and he looks briefly startled by her appearance before a practiced charm takes over.
“No need for apologies, Lady…” he leaves a gap in his speech for her to tell him her name. His voice is melodic.
“Estelle. Lady Estelle.” She tries to match his honeyed tone but her mouth has suddenly gone dry. He takes her hand and gently presses his lips to her knuckles.
“Lady Estelle. The pleasure is all mine,” he coos and a shiver goes up her spine. What on earth would a tailor need with this much charisma? Without letting go of her hand, he gracefully leads her up onto the fitting stand in the middle of the shop. She has danced with the finest nobility in Baldur’s Gate, and none of them were even half this elegant.
“Now please, tell me what I can do for you. I hope there’s nothing wrong with this beautiful gown of yours. Is it one of Galwen’s?” The way he looks at her makes her feel exposed, almost naked, despite the conversation literally being about her clothes. She clears her throat in an attempt to regain some composure.
“Yes, I’ve been going to her for years, but she’s tragically unavailable this evening.” Not that Estelle didn’t try. She sent three messengers and finally went to Galwen’s door herself, but she refused to open back up. Pity, since it looks like she’s lost Estelle’s business for good, especially if this one turns out to be as good as he looks. And gods does he look good.
“All the more fortunate for me that I stay open late,” he says in a low tone, and gooseflesh breaks out over Estelle’s arms. “Now, tell me darling,” he coughs at letting the casual pet name slip out, “pardon me, my Lady, how can I be your gown’s savior this evening?” Estelle hadn’t heard the rest of his sentence because her ears started ringing at the “darling.” Normally she would not take too kindly to someone in the working class speaking so informally to her. She’s beginning to feel lightheaded. Has she been hexed? Does this happen to any who cross his threshold?
“It’s torn,” she says in an uncharacteristically small voice. “Right here.” She lifts her skirt at the thigh slit, threads popping out of the seam. In an instant the tailor is on one knee, examining it closely. With him suddenly this close, all of her symptoms dissipate and are replaced by just one: desire.
She tries to shake herself out of it. Not only would anything of the sort be wildly inappropriate - given her status in Baldur’s Gate, an affair with a lowly tailor would be splashed all over Baldur’s Mouth within hours - this man is a consummate professional, and she’s certain that he would never return her affections. He must look beneath dozens of hems a day, this is nothing out of the ordinary for him. 
He touches the fabric as he studies it, cool fingers lightly grazing Estelle’s skin. She gasps at the sensation, and he looks up at her sheepishly.
“I’m terribly sorry, I have poor circulation. My touch is always something nasty, I’m afraid.” Estelle shakes her head and finds anywhere to look but into those piercing red eyes. 
“It’s fine, really. I have an important evening planned, so I’m a bit jumpy,” she lies through her teeth. He steps away to pick up a needle and thread from behind the counter. While his back is turned, Estelle takes the time alone to wipe sweat off her brow. This man is making her burn up inside and out.
“Oh really?” he sings as he’s back down on his knees, dangerously close to her upper thigh once again. “And pray forgive me, but I must reach up slightly in order to make this repair, if that’s alright. I promise, I’ll be the picture of a gentleman.” He looks up at her, waiting for her consent before touching her further. Estelle, worried what might come out if she opened her mouth, just nods. 
He slides his hand between the fabric and her leg, pulling it out slightly so he can tuck his needle into the underside of the seam. Estelle bites down on her tongue to keep from moaning. She knows that she’s touch-starved, it’s been far too long since anyone has warmed her bedsheets. Between running a household, meeting with politicians and nobility alike, and her position in the Baldur’s Gate arts council, she hardly has the time. But this is ridiculous. A gentle caress from a man should not elicit this much heat between her thighs, and yet here she is, keeping them pressed together tight, the slight pressure her only relief. 
His fingers move deftly, pulling the needle through the fabric with ease. He’s focusing on his work so intently, and Estelle watches him almost like he’s a dream. He begins tying off the thread, and before he’s complete, his eyes flick upward to meet Estelle’s.
“All finis-” he begins, but Estelle is so startled by the intensity of his gaze that she jumps, causing him to prick his finger with the needle. A tiny droplet of blood lands on the pale pink silk. The tailor jumps back, horrified, and immediately starts apologizing profusely.
“Oh gods, Lady Estelle, I’m so terribly sorry, look at what a clumsy little fool I am, gods on such a beautiful dress, too,” his words tumble out of him, all composure that was once there, now gone. She’s finding this flustered side of him possibly even more appealing than the cool and collected version. Her lady-of-the-house instincts kick in, and she addresses him like a new maid who has accidentally broken china while transporting it to the kitchen. 
“Darling,” she breathes and lifts his chin with a finger. She can finally look into those crimson eyes, feeling herself regain the poise she’s accustomed to. “It’s nothing to worry about. Just a speck.” She swears she can hear his breath catch, but maybe it’s just wishful thinking because he recovers quickly.
“Perhaps, but I still feel terrible. This mend is on the house, as well as any alteration you might need done on another garment. And, ah. How to say this.” He looks flushed again, despite the paleness of his skin. “There is a foolproof way of getting one’s blood out of fabric, but it’s not the most, er, refined shall I say.” This piques Estelle’s intrigue.
“Really? And what way is that?”
The tailor shifts nervously, and she positively relishes in the trade in demeanors. 
“This only works if it’s the one the blood belongs to, but if you can catch it straight away, then, erm, saliva will do the trick,” he says with a chagrined smile. Whatever Estelle was expecting, this is not it. 
“Oh,” she responds, and suddenly she’s back to that lightheaded feeling. What is he proposing exactly? Whatever it may be, she’s certain it will involve his mouth in some way and she’s not sure how she’ll handle that.
“The next five alterations are free, I’m so very sorry, this is very uncommon while working on a garment. At least, I’m usually better at catching myself,” he adds with embarrassment. 
“Uh, yes, whatever- whatever needs to be done. Thank you.” She peers down at him, willing herself to find somewhere else to look but unable to tear her eyes away. He pops a thin, pale finger in his mouth and swirls his tongue around it. She swallows loudly as he takes his finger out and dabs it on the slit of her dress, still achingly close to her thigh. He rubs at the spot, but evidently it’s not enough, because he then brings his lips to her dress and lightly rubs his tongue on the silk. 
“Oh gods,” she can’t keep this moan from escaping her lips. If he can hear her, he doesn’t respond, blessedly. He pulls away from her, silver hair ever so slightly disheveled, and rubs at the spot with a handkerchief to dry it.
“Apologies again, my Lady,” he says with a frown, examining the spot for any remaining blood. Then he stands and they’re face to face, the few inches of pedestal putting their eyes at the same height. “I hope this doesn’t make you think any less of my skills as a tailor.” She briefly wonders what other skills he might possess before banishing the thought from her head. 
“Not at all, er,” she falters, realizing she never asked his name, which is unlike her, she usually tries to learn the names of all of the people she contracts to work for her.
“Astarion,” he says with a bow.
“Astarion, yes,” she repeats breathlessly. “Well, Astarion, you came to my aid in a time of desperation, and I suppose there was a blood price to be paid.” He lets out a startled laugh, clearly not expecting her to make such a joke.
“That’s very clever, Lady Estelle,” he says, his eyes sparkling. “You were a pleasure to have on my fitting platform, I do hope to see you again soon. At least to make up for my absolute buffoonery.” He’s back to the confidently poised man who first greeted her when she entered the shop, and he plants another light kiss on the back of her hand. 
“I assure you, the pleasure was all mine,” Estelle murmurs, almost hoping that he doesn’t hear her. “Oh, and Astarion?”
“Yes, my Lady?”
“Please. Call me Stella.
***
Several tenday have passed since Stella’s first meeting with Astarion, and she had visited his shop nearly every evening. It didn’t take long for her to admit her feelings; she couldn’t hide them even if she wanted to. Even when Astarion confessed his status as a vampire spawn, she wasn’t deterred. If anything, it aroused her all the more. Something happens to Astarion when he drinks her blood. The humble and subservient tailor disappears, and in his place is a self-assured and dominant man. Stella is more than happy to relinquish control over to him. She’s responsible for so much during the day, making decisions, telling people what to do, so there’s an appeal to having someone else take that role for once. 
The moment she walks into the shop she’s met with the graceful gentleman. No matter how many times she sees him, that wicked smile sets a small ember in her belly that quickly spreads. Each point of contact lights on fire despite his chilled skin. A spark in her fingers as he pulls her forward, a flame on her cheek as he strokes it gently. In an instant he shuts the door and flips around the open sign. With the darkened windows and the door now closed, they’re plunged into semi-darkness and Stella feels a chill go up her spine.
Astarion wastes no time in pushing her against the door and kissing her deeply. He presses his body up against hers and she gasps into his kiss as he pulls her in closer by her waist. He slides his knee between her legs and she lets out a whimper. Astarion chuckles in her ear.
“Eager, aren’t we?” he coos, lifting her slightly with his knee putting a delicious pressure on her mound. She clutches the back of his neck and hair, wrapping her leg around him to get even closer. He hikes up her skirt to her waist and scoops her up so both of her legs grip his midsection. Keeping his lips locked on hers as she continues to devour him, he carries her through the shop and to one of the adjacent rooms where there’s a bed and two untouched glasses of wine sitting on a side table. The tailor’s quarters. 
He throws her down on the bed and she looks up at him, cheeks and lips flushed, eyes glowing. Her typically neatly coiffed hair is mussed and strands splay out beneath her head like a halo. Astarion straddles her waist, pinning her in place, as he strokes her face.
“Tell me what you want,” he breathes, looking down at her with heavy lidded eyes. She grabs his shirt and pulls him in close.
“You know what I want,” she smirks, gaze flickering between his eyes and lips. He laces his fingers through her tousled hair and gently grazes his fangs over her neck, eliciting a sharp gasp.
“And you know I like to hear it,” he murmurs into her neck, and another full-body shiver goes through Stella. His breath feels chilling against her warm neck, blood pumping eagerly through her arteries. She grabs his face and forces him to look her in the eye – the last bit of control she has before she cedes it completely.
“Astarion,” she says slowly, measured and teasing, “I would enjoy it very much if you bit my neck, drank my blood, and then had your fucking way with me.” He chuckles darkly.
“Well,” he grins, a mischievous glint in his eye, “since you asked so nicely.” Stella lets out a moan as his fangs sink into her skin, the piercing pain soon giving way to a throbbing ache. His lips close around the wound, drinking in her delicious warmth, leaving her feeling blissfully lightheaded. She hums with pleasure as she curls her fingers into his silvery locks, hips unconsciously rolling into his, hungry for more contact. She can feel him growing stronger as her blood flows into him, his thighs tightly gripping her hips, keeping her locked into place. 
Astarion pulls away from her before going too far and Stella lets out a small whine at the loss of contact. He’s out of breath, chest heaving as he licks the last of her blood from his lips. He presses two fingers to the wound on her neck to stanch the bleeding as she looks up at him, pupils blown wide with lust. Once he can feel that the blood is no longer flowing freely, he takes his fingers away and hovers them centimeters above Stella’s lips.
“Open,” he commands, and she dutifully obeys. She takes his fingers into her mouth and sucks on them lasciviously, the metallic taste of her own blood filling her mouth. It’s one thing to prick her finger and to suck on it to make the bleeding stop. It’s quite another to lap her blood of Astarion’s fingers, languishing in the vulgarity of the taboo. She yearns to hear his breath hitch as she works her tongue over their length. 
He slides his fingers out of her mouth and grabs her chin, reversing the roles from moments before. He examines her face, turning it this way and that, like he’s inspecting a prized golden retriever at a dog show. 
“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he lets out in a low tone. “Trapped underneath me, open and wanton, ready to let me do whatever I want with you. To you,” he adds on with an impish grin, and Stella squirms with anticipation. He swings a leg over her and stands by the edge of the bed, towering over her.
“Up now, on your knees,” he instructs and she scrambles to sit on her knees, still looking up at Astarion with lust-filled eyes. He reaches behind her and fully releases her hair from its loose braid letting it fall down the length of her back. He runs his fingers through her hair, humming as he does, “Good girl.” Her chest swells with the intake of breath as she leans into his touch even more.
“Undress. Quickly,” he demands. Her skirt is already up around her waist so she peels the rest of her dress off in a fluid motion. The corset provides a little more resistance, but even with fumbling fingers she manages to untie the laces and undo the hooks, letting it fall behind her. The sudden exposure to air makes her nipples go hard. Astarion smirks and cups one of her breasts in his hand, stroking her tit with his thumb. Stella bites back a cry.
“Shh shh shh. Not a sound,” Astarion whispers as he puts his lips close to her ear, continuing to fondle her. “I don’t want to hear you make a single noise, understood? Not until I say so.” He pulls away and locks his crimson eyes on her brown ones. Stella trembles, but nods silently.
“Good,” he breathes and slides her forward so that she’s sitting on the edge of the bed with her toes lightly touching the floor. He then lowers himself to one knee between her legs. He kisses up her thigh until he reaches her panties. He looks up at her mischievously as he hooks a finger in either side of the waistband, and he slips them off in a single fluid motion. Stella shudders with anticipation for what he plans to do next. 
Astarion parts her legs and she can feel the cool air on the slickness between her thighs. He leans forward and takes her nipple in his mouth, flicking his tongue lightly over the tip. She takes in a shaky breath, but she manages to keep any noise she might want to make under wraps. He looks up at her while continuing to work his tongue. She clenches the sheets as jolts of white hot electricity shoot through her body. He pushes her legs apart even further and leans in, the ties from his frilled shirt lightly brushing against her folds. She gasps and shifts her pelvis, simultaneously trying to get less and more contact. He grabs her waist forcefully to hold it in place. He snakes his way up so that they’re face to face, lips a hair’s breadth apart.
“Ah ah, no moving either. Are you going to be good for me? Will you be silent like I’ve asked?” he says in a light, sing-songy tone. Stella keeps her lips clamped together as she nods.
“And what will you give me if you can’t obey?” he purrs, brushing his lips against hers as he runs a thin, cool finger along her slit. 
“Ah-anything,” Stella moans, turning her pleasure sound into a response. Astarion lets a smug grin play on his lips.
“Either way, I’ll get what I want,” he intones, and mercifully pulls his face away from hers. She releases a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. But it’s still only the beginning.
He lowers himself onto both knees and places a delicate kiss on her labia. She squirms but remains silent.
“My, you could drown a small army down here,” he says with an amused smile, and Stella just continues to breathe heavily, her chest rising and falling as she gazes down at the head of white curls between her legs. He runs the tip of his tongue along her folds, hands pushing out on her thighs slightly as he does. As he parts her legs further he exposes more of her, letting his tongue explore the newly uncovered skin. A cry catches in Stella’s throat and she slaps a hand over her mouth. His scorching gaze fixes on her and she lets herself fall back on the bed. If she watches she’ll be done for. Then again, not being able to anticipate his next move might be even worse.
Not being one to let her escape his torment, Astarion grabs Stella beneath the legs and yanks her toward him, letting her legs fall onto his shoulders as he continues to lap up her sweetness. She chokes down a whine, her breath quickening as she desperately tries to control herself. His tongue plunges into her and she bites into her hand with a hiss. With her pelvis rolled up so that he can get the best angle, he continues fucking her with his tongue, getting deep enough that the tips of his fangs press into her ever so lightly. 
That’s what sets her over the edge. The smallest pinprick of pain along with all of the filthy things he’s doing to her with his tongue tears a scream from her throat, muffled by her hand. He stops and stands over her, backlit by the low lighting, her wetness reflecting off his devilish smile. He then grabs her by the throat, not enough to constrict her breathing, but just enough to pull her face up to his.
“What was that, my sweet?” he growls dangerously. 
“N-nothing,” Stella stammers out, but Astarion just smiles.
“I don’t think it was ‘nothing,’ darling,” he breathes, acid in his voice. “I was very explicit in my instructions, was I not?” His hand tightens around Stella’s throat and she lets out a choked sound. It’s not a sound she usually makes. Astarion pulls his hand back slightly, concern creeping into his eyes. Stella looks up at him and nods.
Keep going.
They have a safe word for a reason, but if anything unexpected happens, Astarion still prefers to check in. He’s mentioned before that sometimes he’s worried that he’ll lose control, especially right after drinking her blood.
Stella finds the danger absolutely thrilling, but wants him to feel just as safe as she does.
Astarion drops her throat and pushes her down so her back is flat against the bed. Still between her legs, he pushes his pelvis against hers, pinning her wrists above her head. He’s still fully clothed, and the leather of his pants feels deliciously cool against her wet pussy. He puts one knee up on the bed, pushing her right leg up higher and spreading her even further. As unphased and indifferent as he seems, Stella can still feel his erection pressing into her, and she shifts to feel it more.
“You said you’d give me anything if you failed, correct?” he murmurs against her lips. 
“Yes,” the word escapes on a breath.
“Then hold still.” Astarion stands and the sudden loss of all contact elicits a small whine from Stella. He flashes her a playful smirk as he walks over to the bedside table and pulls out two long strips of cloth. He climbs on top of Stella again, straddling her hips and squeezing lightly with his thighs.
“Wrists, please,” he commands almost nonchalantly. Stella immediately puts her wrists together and holds them out to Astarion.
“Good girl,” he coos and the praise makes her lightheaded. He tenderly wraps her wrists up in the silk cloth, making sure it's tight enough to prevent escape but not enough to cause any lasting damage. He then takes the other strip of cloth, a sturdier cotton broadcloth, and holds it to her lips. He ties it tightly behind her neck, keeping her from being able to open her mouth at all.
“Since you can’t control yourself enough to stay quiet,” he purrs, low and dangerous, “maybe this will do it for you. And I think,” he stands and walks over to the bed stand. He looks over his shoulder and orders in an apathetic tone, “Up dear.” She scrambles to her knees, wrists falling limply in her lap. He continues, “I think you need one more thing to remind you to whom you belong.” He pulls out a fine leather collar with a silver O-ring in the middle. Stella’s excitement mingles with genuine admiration for the craftsmanship. He turns around and lovingly closes it around her neck. He then slips one slender finger through the ring and pulls it up so her head is tilted toward him.
“How does that feel, good?” he asks lightly, and she nods, still desperate to please. He lets go of the collar and strokes her jaw. “Good,” he breathes, and she can see the self-control in his eyes. He wants to fuck her just as much as she wants him to, and it’s taking everything in his power to hold out. He leans into her lips as though he’s about to kiss her but stops just short of making contact. 
“Now, before I decide precisely what I want to do with you,” he hums into her lips, “I want to make sure you can still tell me if I need to stop or slow down. If it ever becomes too much, I want you to snap your fingers, understood? Show me now.” Astarion keeps his lips achingly close to hers, but she does as he says. When he hears her snap, he grabs her face in his hands and kisses her roughly, sliding a dastardly knee between her legs once again. She longs to reach for him but keeps her bound wrists dutifully in her lap as his lips continue their assault on hers. 
Once he breaks the kiss, he remains close and slides his hands behind her head and into her hair. “Good girl,” the words rumble low in his throat and Stella is grateful for the cloth that muffles the obscene noise she makes. He steps away and she’s finally able to see all of him as he pulls off the tunic, revealing his porcelain chest. She yearns to run her fingers along it, tracing the outlines of his muscles, but instead she just grabs a fistful of sheets beneath her hands. He pulls down his trousers, letting his already hardened cock free, and her pussy twitches in anticipation. 
Astarion saunters back up to her and touches the front of her gag where a small wet spot is forming with her desire for him. He smirks and pulls her face down to his cock, running the tip of it along the broadcloth. She can feel it brush against her lips, and she again moans in anticipation. 
“Don’t you wish you could take me in your mouth?” he breathes, and Stella presses her tongue against the inside of the gag, trying to make even minimal contact. He laughs cruelly. “Gods, you’re desperate,” he scoffs. “It’s a shame, because if you had been able to follow my instructions, I may have even let you ride me on top.” He pushes the tip of his dick into the gag one more time before pulling away, leaving Stella to squirm achingly. 
“But instead,” he forcefully pushes her back so that she’s once again lying on the bed with her legs spread open for him. He crawls on top of her and teases her opening with his tip. She mewls in desperation. “You’ll have to contend with me doing whatever I want to this beautiful body of yours. I can slide in,” and he pushes into her, wrenching a gasp and whine from her mouth, before pulling out and letting his tip tease her again, “and pull out on a whim. You said I could do whatever I want.”
Stella is beside herself with lust. Unable to move her hands, she writhes her pelvis, trying to get even the slightest bit of contact. Her pussy is starting to burn from the pent up desire and she’s genuinely unsure of how much longer she can last like this. Astarion grins widely and his fangs sparkle in the low lighting. 
“Shall I give you what you want, darling? What you so fiercely crave?” His slick tip is still dancing around her cunt and tears are starting to form in her eyes as she nods. He thrusts into her again and rips the cloth from her lips before whispering sharply into her ear.
“Then I want to hear it all,” he hisses. “I want you screaming my name as I fuck you.” With his permission, she cries out, all of her stifled energy finally releasing.
“Oh gods, Astarion, fuck me please,” the words spill from her mouth uncontrollably. He starts pounding into her and she knows after all that time teasing her, she won’t last long. The heat of him sliding in and out, the stretch with each thrust, fills her with a fire that threatens to turn into an explosion. 
“Fuck, Astarion, please,” she whines, moments away from climax. She wraps her legs around his waist to get him in deeper, and now it’s his turn to let out a low moan. He continues to slam into her, the sounds of their mutual pleasure mounting.
“Look at me,” he growls, and she struggles to keep her gaze locked onto his crimson eyes. He looks so beautiful above her, silvery hair getting slick with sweat, panting as he continues his smooth rhythm. She can feel her orgasm building as her cries grow louder. He knows she’s close, too, and once again he flashes a fang-bearing smile.
“Come for me, darling,” he groans, and that sends her toppling over the edge.
“Gods, Astarion, yes!” she screams as she comes, and his follows shortly after. With a final thrust, he releases into her, his cock pulsing exquisitely. He looks down at her with an uncharacteristically shy smile and kisses her as he pulls out.
Both of them are out of breath as he collapses onto the bed next to her. Stella’s limbs feel light as though she just downed an entire bottle of dream mist. She rolls onto her side to look at Astarion, who appears to be equally intoxicated. Without a word she holds her wrists up, and he laughs lightly.
“Ah, yes, you might want those back,” he croons, and uses his teeth to pull out the knot, and the silk falls away in one fluid motion. Her hands are so close to his face that she cups his chin gently, just content to look at him.
“You’re so beautiful,” she whispers, and he turns a kiss into her palm. 
“I could say the same thing,” he purrs as he looks up at her through his lashes. “Tea?” He pulls up the plush blanket that had been folded neatly at the end of the bed and wraps it around Stella’s shoulders. She snuggles into it and pulls it closed around her, then nods. He plants a quick kiss on her forehead and walks over to fill the kettle hanging above the hearth. Stella admires his silhouette, backlit by the light of the fire. He’s lithe and sinewy, his sculpted muscles built for dexterity more than strength. Her eyes rake over his broad shoulders, the dip of his lower back, the curve of his bare ass. He turns his head to look at her over his shoulder.
“Yes?” he asks, raising an eyebrow at her.
“Nothing,” she hums, “just enjoying the view.” He smiles as he leans over the blanket cocoon she’s swathed herself in and kisses her lips softly, gently. He’s always particularly tender with her after a session like that, and Stella is grateful for it. She loves being able to see both of these sides of Astarion. The affable tailor eager to serve, and the dangerous dom claiming his power. Her fingers lightly dance on the collar he put on her. She likes the idea of belonging to him. A pity she couldn’t wear something as conspicuous as a leather collar in her daily life.
Astarion returns with a steaming mug, and as though reading her mind, pulls a long jewelry box from the drawer of the bedside table. 
“A companion piece to your collar, if you so wish,” he says in explanation. “You’re under no obligation to wear it, of course, but I thought you might like a little reminder of me everywhere you go.” She opens the box and nestled in the satin is a delicate silver chain with a small ring in the center. Her jaw drops slightly as she marvels at its beauty.
“Astarion, how did you–?” she begins, but he cuts her off.
“It pays to be a well-connected artisan, darling,” he says with a shrug. 
“Will you put it on me?” Stella asks in a light voice, and he looks delighted. She lifts up her hair so that he can unclasp the leather collar and replace it with the silver necklace. His fingers brush against her neck, lingering on the puncture mark he left earlier.
“Although perhaps you might want to sport high-collared dresses for a bit,” he admits with an apologetic grin. Stella turns and kisses him, cupping his face and gently running her thumb along his jaw.
“Well thank the gods I have a tailor who can make me new gowns in all the latest fashions,” she smirks. He climbs on top of her to kiss her more deeply, their naked bodies touching in a way that’s intimate, but not sexual. She could melt into his flesh, his kiss, his breath, and never want to change a thing.
112 notes · View notes
david-talks-sw · 1 year
Note
It's a shame that the multi-media franchise of star wars have twisted the original narrative of the Jedi. I really love the sequel trilogy, I love season 7 of TCW, and Dave Filoni is amazing storyteller. But over the years, it's gotten to the point where the Jedi are being criticized to such a degree that now some people believe the Jedi should've changed their entire belief system. It's great to criticize the Jedi. They are flawed and not perfect. But now because they are now being framed negatively over the past 2-3 years and so now, some justify their genocide, disrespect their belief system, and believe Anakin was a poor victim who got caught up in everything. Lucasfilm or any writer is to blame for this, but I think people need to look a little more deeper into the media literacy behind star wars, and consider the fact that a child is going to love the Jedi despite their flaws and will be sad when they see them get killed. Because star wars is made for children who can look up to the Jedi as role models.
All of this.
I frankly don't know what else to add, @thecenturyofmusic said it all.
I also think there's an argument to be made for shifting global values.
I don't know about how it was in the U.S. specifically, but I don't remember there being as much of an emphasis on mental health back in the early 2000s as there is today.
Back then, I remember many fans sorta getting the core story but hating it, which resulted in a lot of them just bashing the Prequels.
Nowadays, a spin has been put on the Prequels wherein Anakin is the poster boy for the mental illness, he's just a victim:
he grew up a slave which gave him severe PTSD,
then was ripped away from the arms of his mother by
an elite order of emotionless monks whose emotionally-repressing teachings are the perfect representation of toxic masculinity and force you to never get emotionally attached,
who berated and rejected him at every turn,
he also doesn't have a father figure except for the Chancellor, who grooms him and isolates him,
and instead of supporting him in his hour of need, the Jedi hurt Anakin psychologically to a degree where at some point he just loses it and kills them all, because as far as he's concerned they were evil to him.
And... yeah. It can be interpreted that way. It resonates more to people when seen that way.
But it wasn't meant to be seen that way.
If it was, then we'd have seen very different Prequels.
Watto would have physically abused Anakin left and right like he's DiCaprio in Django: Unchained, instead of joking around about humans with him.
Shmi would've been on the ground crying, holding Anakin's leg and screaming "please no give me back my babyyyy!!!"
Literally every shot of the Jedi emoting, screaming, chuckling, being worried would be absent and they'd all speak with a monotonous voice, including Yoda, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan.
If we were supposed to feel like Anakin is in the right and the Jedi are in the wrong then we'd be shown an Anakin who isn't petulant, arrogant and overly emotional. We'd see a normal person who gets berated by a group of unfeeling old men.
Anakin wouldn't call Obi-Wan his father twice (which is admittedly a nuanced situation because while Anakin may see Obi-Wan as a father, Obi-Wan sees Anakin as a little brother so hey).
We'd see Anakin explicitly state that he's afraid of his wife dying, maybe carrying her unconscious body to the temple steps begging for help only for someone to reject him at the door because "it goes against protocol" and that's when Palpatine swoops in.
Y'know, more explicit, emotion-eliciting stuff?
But we didn't see any of that. Because it wasn't about any of that. If it was, then it goes about delivering its message in the weakest way possible.
While nowadays, the popular take is that Anakin's downfall is the fault of everyone around him, the intended take was that Anakin's fall was his own fault. Anakin is a victim of his own flaws.
The Prequels weren't meant to show you what happens when you keep pushing a mentally unstable person, they were about cautioning children about not giving in to their own fear and greed.
"How does a good kid become a bad man?" He let his inner demons - fear, anger, greed - get the better of him.
And that's not necessarily a take most people agree with these days, but that takes us back to how much importance you actually give to GL's original vision.
404 notes · View notes
hailey-murdock · 8 months
Note
hellooooo :3
subby!peter b parker has been in my head forever. so like what do you think he would do if the reader gave him a punishment bc he probably came when she was telling him to hold it but he did it anyway so the reader says he can’t touch himself or even do anything with the reader for a week and he is just so whiny about the whole thing and quite literally begging for the reader to take it back😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫
Please
Tumblr media
Paring: Peter B Parker x Fem!reader
Warnings: 18+ mdni, explicit content
WC: 0.9k
A/N: this got me hot and bother, it woke something inside of me while writing this😵‍💫 (Reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated).
Explicit content after the cut
Tumblr media
"Don't you fucking dare-", your eyes shot daggers through Peter as you moved your soft hand around his swollen cock. You felt his cock twitched meaning he was either close or about to cum. But you pulled your hand away too late.
"I-i can’t-", Peter cried as he reached his release, his body convulsed, his soft brown eyes rolled back to his head. 
You had one rule, just one fucking rule, to not cum unless you gave him permission. And what did Peter do? He fucking came. 
Peter whined when he felt you pull away your hand. Slowly leaving the haze of his orgasm, reality hit him. His eyes shot wide as began to apologize, "No, baby, please I'm sorry-".
The dry chuckle that erupted from you made him worry. "I thought you were my good boy, clearly you've shown you can't follow instructions".
You pulled on your (his) shirt on while speaking to him, which meant that your promise to fuck him for the rest of the night until he couldn’t give you one more release was long gone.
"No! I am your good boy, please I'm so sorry mommy. Please- I swear it won't happen again", you almost felt guilty, almost. On the other hand Peter had disobeyed you. 
Just like when you didn't listen to him he would punish you. What's better than to give him a taste of his own medicine? Peter watched as you put your clothes back on, leaving him bare on the bed.
"W-what are you doing? You didn't get to come", he asked confused but yet you co<ld hear the hint of desperation in his voice which only made you smirk.
"You really think you deserve my come after that"? You scoffed at him, he really thought you were going to forgive him easily but not this time. "You know what, for one week, no sex, no nothing. No touching yourself either, if you do-", you laugh, "that adds another week, understand"? 
"Hm whatever", Peter mumbled quietly, thinking that you didn't hear him. That only made your blood boil cause he wasn't taking you seriously. You moved to grab his jaw tightly, "If you got something to say, say it loud Parker". 
Peter tried to get out of your grip. It made him so nervous that only you could make him like this, so submissive. It was as if he had stepped onto a foreign land. This was new territory, the roles switched around.
When he saw the glint in your eye of how dead serious you were, he nodded. That made you more pissed off. "Use your words. Or are you that of a dumb slut that can't use your words"? 
"N-no", his cock was rock hard for you again but he knew that you weren't going to help, nor he could do something about it unless he wanted to make his sentence longer.
You hummed in approval as you walked out the bedroom to the living room just to act if nothing just happened. As Peter laid there trying to copperhead what just happened his hand trailed down to his thigh right near where he badly needed it to be on. 
But he remembered what you said, eh probably you would break first and end up giving in, Peter thought.
Oh but how wrong he was. You kept your word, for the rest of the week you had avoided all physical contact with Peter. Any kisses that were headed your way, you dodged. You even slept on the couch, no showers together, no nothing, just like you had said.
You weren't going to lie, it was fucking torture to not wake up to having Peter next to you, or his body heat radiate off to your while cuddling. 
It wasn't even three days when Peter was begging on his knees to let him touch you. He looked so good on his knees pleading.
"Please baby, I can’t take it anymore- need you badly please. Please take it back, I need to feel you, taste you, anything please", his eyes watered due to his desperate state.
"No, I already told you Peter".
"But sweetheart, I- I can make you feel good. You can use me, take me. Make yourself good, please don't punish yourself too. I won't come- just please".
But no, you weren't going to give in. Peter needed to understand that he had to take you more seriously.
Day 6, was a living hell. The bastard decided to walk around the house all day with no shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants that hung dangerously loose on his slutty hips. His v-line on display, his abs and biceps in front of you, and he acted like nothing.
But then karma decided to be a bitch, you changed into a pair of booty shorts and you bent down in front of Peter to "pick something off the floor". 
Peter couldn’t control himself anymore, he needed you, now. In a swift motion he pulled down your shorts revealing you with no panties. 
"Fuck, no panties huh? Oh you treat me so good baby". Peter was blinded by an animalistic desire for you that you didn't even notice him taking off his last piece of clothing before pushing himself into you. 
"P-Peter! Oh my- god"! You tried to hold yourself onto his arms
"No not h-him, me. It's me who's making you feel good", he rant as he held your hips, pushing you back into him.
If this is what would happen after a few days of no sex, then you should punish him more often.
345 notes · View notes
fandomwe1rd0 · 15 days
Text
Why I think Morty is Rick's favorite person
We get confrimation in season 7, episode 7 "Wet Kaut Summer" and in season 7 episode 6, that Rick spoils Morty, we can also see that only Morty gets spoiled, since Summer expressed jealously at the fact that Morty gets whatever he wants and all he has to do is ask, meanwhile Summer has to do chores for Rick, Rick does say the reason why he has Summer do chores is because he sees her as an equal and respects her, but I still consider it sweet that he spoils Morty.
It's been confrimed that if it came down to it, he would sacifice himself for Morty, we see this most famously in "A Rickle In Time" where he sacifices himself for Morty by giving Morty his time collar and again in "Rest and Ricklaxation" where Toxic Rick basically sacifriced himself for Morty (This one may be more debatable, depending on your viewpoint it is called merging, but considering that toxic Rick would stop being his own person, I would consider that sacifrice) we also get that confrimination from heathly Rick in that episode, he says, and I quote "You've done nothing but complain about me being in charge, but if I ever gave you the wheel, we'd be dead in 5 minutes" (Or something similar to that, I don't remeber the full quote)
He chose Morty over Diane, in "Fear No Mort" Season 7 episode 10, Rick finds out that he could've seen Diane again if he went into the fear hole, so he runs in, looks at the hole, debating wether to go in or not, but just chose to put a picture of Morty (That he had carefully folded in the front pocket of his wallet mind you) and went back to spend the rest of the evening with his grandson. Keep in mind this is Diane, someone he could never replace due to her being erased through every dimension, someone who he made his car sound like, someone who he dedicated years of his life towards avenging her. And he chose Morty over her,
He is more protective over Morty more than he is over anyone else in the family. This may be because he adventures with Morty the most, so we see more scenes of Rick protecting Morty, but we see him protecting Morty a lot wether it's just by putting Morty behind him (As we can see in Morty's Mindblowers season 3, episode 8) threatening people who hurt him (As we can see in M. Night Shaym-Aliens! Season 1, episode 4) telling people to leave Morty out of conflicts they have with him (As we can see in Close Rick Counters with Rick Kind, Season 1, episode 10) or straight up killing people who hurt Morty (As we can see in Meeseeks and Destroy. Season 1, episode 5) using his body to stop bullets from hitting Morty (As we can see in Edge of Tomorty: Rick die Rickpeat season 4 episode 1) or getting angry when people insult Morty (As we can see in Vindicators 3: The Return of Worldender, season 3, episode 4) He is consistantly protective of Morty, and he isn't shown to be this protective over anyone else.
He values Morty opinion of him, this may be more due to his ego than anything, but we see in Vindicators 3: The return of Worldender, Rick quickly became incredibly jealous when Morty admired someone more than him, and in season 6 episode 10 Ricktional Mortpoon's Rickmas Mortcation, we can see that he replaced himself with a robot since he was upset with the thought that Morty found him boring, so much so he replaced himself with a robot
Morty is the only family member Rick didn't abandon. Now, I'm not talking about when he refused to abandon his family but then Rick Prime killed them, that obviously wasn't Rick's fault, I'm referring to the world he corenberged in season 1 episode 6, Rick Potion #9, he only brought Morty along when he could've very easily just left Morty there to rot, he could've just gotten a new grandson, there is literally infinite realities, heck after season 1 episode 10 Close Rick counters with Rick kind, we can see that he has a coupon for a new replacement Morty, why doesn't he just use that? He could easily get a more impressionable Morty who would just obey him and not question him, but he doesn't.
Morty is the only thing keeping him stable, while that certainly is not healthy, since Rick shouldn't rely on his 14 year old grandson to keep him stable, I feel like it's proof that again, Morty is his favorite person, while this is most obvious in season 7 episode 6 Rickfending your Mort with Morty pulling Rick out of a slump after he felt empty after defeating Rick Prime, if it wasn't for Morty, Rick would still be in a slump and would still just be drinking in the garage, but we also see this in Rick and Ricklaxation, Season 3, episode 6 as he completely broke down when Morty was gone for 2 weeks, he apparently would just drink and call Jessica, a kid he did not know beforehand, and would cry about how Morty was gone, and tried to get him back. That is why I think Morty is Rick's favorite person. This is why I wanna grab Morty, shake him and yell at him about how much Rick cares about him
46 notes · View notes